Day 4: 'a mob of children who thought Dan was Harry Potter' (Jonny and David)

( Geordie accent optional) 

Beginning to settle in to our half built castle and form some kind of routine thanks to Wallerdog’s obsession with systems and lists. The game of “will I let you charge your camera or not” is played by the mains electricity to everyone’s annoyance.  This makes no difference to me and Kie as none of our 4 plug sockets work.  The cold showers are a nuisance but at the same time refreshing and really wake you up.

We stopped at the spirit father’s house for breakfast and were taken around both schools and the hospital. I felt like a celebrity as we entered the primary school with the children fighting to get a look at us “Mzungi” (white men) with our hairy arms and pasty white skin.  As we toured the various parts we took pictures, high fived everyone, and were followed by a mob of children who thought Dan was Harry Potter. Little did they know that it is in fact Rob who controls the Elder Wand (or so he claims). From there we went to the secondary school which had a slightly more hostile atmosphere, which was to be expected. Once they destroy us at football I’m sure they’ll come around. The Hospital was bigger than expected with lots of different departments. However, I really wouldn’t want to spend the next two weeks there. Teaching seems a much more appealing, rewarding and enjoyable career path than Medicine – but that’s just my opinion.          

-Jonny

  

Tanzania is obviously a massive change from the English way of living in so many ways, but it’s surprising how familiar it feels. I think all the months of preparation had built up a picture in my head of how things would be, but in some ways it doesn’t feel all that different. I think the main thing that’s noticeably different is the people- all the Salesian Brothers and people around the complex are amazingly friendly and forward, everyone waves as we walk past (some of them shout ‘mzungu’ as we pass, but it never seems to be in an aggressive way) and the children are amazing, they crowd around anyone new and especially love cameras. Unlike Rob. He’s developing a nervous tic every time he hears my camera’s shutter goes off after a few sliiiiiiiiiightly unflattering pictures of him were taken... Hopefully I’ll make it out of Africa before he can delete them, but until then I’m sleeping with one eye open.

We went into the town of Moshi today, and despite being warned by Father Waller repeatedly NOT to interact with the street vendors, I started talking to a painter about his pictures and he managed to talk me into looking at all his oil paintings. I asked how much they were, and he said ’55 shillings!’

Having only changed my pounds into Tanzanian shillings minutes before, I still had barely any understanding of how Tanzanian currency works. I tried to explain this to him, and tell him I had no idea how much this was in English money, and that I wasn’t going to buy anything until we were leaving in three weeks anyway, but it became clear I’d made a mistake even looking at his pictures- he became very insistent. He said, looking me right in the eyes, ‘I’m very angry.’ Well, actually, I realised later he was actually saying ‘I’m very hungry’- which in some ways is even more unnerving- but it was enough to freeze me to the spot. I really had no idea how much he was trying to get me to pay.

 Luckily brother Kevin stepped in and saved me- instead of the 55 shillings (about 25 quid) he was selling it for, he said ’55? No no no, I’ll give you 7 (which is the equivalent of about £2.50)’ and then after the seller expressed what a ridiculous price he thought this was, pulled me away.

We thought this would be the end of it, but he followed me across the road and nearly into a cafe, knocking down the price every time, calling me by ‘my friend’ and asking to speak to me alone without Kevin. This continued all round Moshi until finally Gaz and Bradley heroically stepped between us and convinced him to leave us alone. He tried to force it on us by just thrusting it into our hands and walking away, but Kevin, in a stroke of comic genius, just left it on his shoe.

By the end of it, he was actually willing to sell it us for the 7 shillings brother Kevin had suggested as a ridiculous price before. I at this point was completely shaken- I’d just asked to see some paintings, and we’d been harassed through the whole of Moshi. I’ve learnt my lesson not to give the sellers here false hope.

-Dave

(Bit of a late update- just found the same painting in a souvenir shop down the road for 4 shillings. Don't feel quite so bad now...)