I’m still in Lindi. The ocean convinced me to stay longer. Tomorrow I should leave, but I don’t know if I will be able to go. Kilwa, my next destination, is also by the ocean, but here the guesthouse is right on the beach and it’s nice to wake up in the morning and find myself here.
I spent the day relaxing. I woke up at 6.30 as usual. After breakfast I took a walk on a hill nearby to see Lindi from above. Very pretty, with the houses among the palm trees and the bay at the horizon. Then I spent three hours at a pub on the beach reading. I drank two fantas. Probably this is the reason why my stomach is so large, I drink too many sparkling and sweet drinks.
The beach was almost empty all day. But at 4.30pm it started to liven up. At that time it’s not too hot anymore and people go to the beach after work. Someone plays football, others run, some bath, fish with their hands, some boats come back with their catch to sell, there’s the usual group that sings and prays.
I’m sitting in a corner looking at all this. While he’s waiting for his turn at football, a boy dances. The women would like to take part to the fish auction, but they can’t stop dancing. The music call is too strong. The director of the auction doesn’t seem to mind too much because he is also dancing. They seem possessed. Someone asks something to the women, and they answer without stopping dancing and singing. They put a basket full of fish on their head and dance back home.
A little girl covers her eyes with her hands so she doesn’t see me. I must really scare her. Now she’s peeking from in between fingers. It’s not the first time a child cries seeing me. The closest they brought him to me, the hardest he cried. Poor boy… On my left they keep going with the gospel. They invited me to join them on the conga line, but I prefer to watch. Emmanuel comes closer “God Loves Your!”. J explains that they come to the beach to sing their gospels from Sunday to Tuesday. On Sunday morning there’s the Mass at the church on the hill if I want to join. I like this way of praying, with dances and songs, all excitement and involvement. Deborah and Sabrina are keeping me company. When I understand their names it means they are Christians.
Here comes a boy selling chungwa, oranges. I don’t want any, but I buy one each for my friends. While he peels an orange here comes another child. At the end it’s ten oranges, divided among about 20 kids, and there are none left (in the meantime looking at those juicy oranges I had decided I wanted one too). We take some pictures, but there’s always someone doing a face, I don’t understand why they always do it.
It’s almost dark. I go to town for rice and vegetables. I also accept a passion fruit juice, which probably has some water in it, I’m expecting some consequences. I go back to the guesthouse and the boy at the reception wants to talk to me. He wants to teach me some Swahili. So sweet! If I found someone willing to teach me Swahili during the day I would probably stay longer. And here we are at the usual questions. He is 24 and not married. He can’t marry, his life is too bad. First he has to become the boss. From receptionist to boss, I hope it won’t take him too long.
9pm, Na kwenda kulala (I’m going to sleep). What a beautiful languate Swahili is!!
Everyone is watching the football match England-France. In Europe and in Tanzania. People this morning told me that Italy yesterday tied the match with Spain. Some people at the pub invited me to watch the match with them tonight, but I don’t like to go out when it’s dark (and here it gets dark at 6.30).
When I went out I wanted to go back to the hotel to spend some time on the web, at least during the hottest hours (tea and coffee had made me sweat a lot) but I passed by the cops pub with a nice beer poster and I felt the urge to have a beer. At 11.30 in the morning. There was a guy, Cuthbert, that while I was drinking my beer started talking to me. I sat at a table and to read my book when the waitress brought me a napking with Cuthbert’s phone number written on it. Then I got a beer offered by him. And after some time here he comes as well. At the end the beer went to his “brother” (I was already tipsy after the first one) and they offered me lunch (guess what? Chipsi mayhai, potato omelette). We spent a couple of hours talking of nothing. He told me he’s a businessman. Here almost everyone is an “agent” or “businessman” if they are not employed somewhere. Cuthbert must really be a businessman because he was wearing shoes. He was a bit misterious about it, but at the end he told me he sells coal in Dar Es Salaam. There’s something illegal in it, because he bribes policemen and this is why he is often here at the policemen pub. While we were there an old men approached us selling watermelons; he asked someting in Swahili, went away and came back with two cigarettes, one for him and one for Cuthbert; he sat at the table with us, but Cuthbert sent him away. But I believe he offered him the lunch, and the cigarette. After a couple of hours Cuthbert got tired and told me he had some business to do. He went to the other table to finish his beer with his friends. We agreed to meet at 6 in the evening to do I don’t know what.
So I went back to my hotel. I rested there for a short time, just to let the heat pass. At about 3.30 I went to read at the beach. In the shade, because all dressed up I can’t stand the sun. A girl came asking for money, but didn’t insist. A boat docked and from nowhere came a crowd to take part to the usual fish auction. After a bit Francis arrived. As he didn’t want to leave me alone reading, I asked him to walk with me on the beach. We walked a lot and it was nice because he speaks a good English and he told me about the school system in Tanzania. Apparently public schools are free for the first 7 years (primary) and they are quite cheap in the secondary years. But if you don’t pass the exams of the 7th year, you can’t go to Secondary School. You can only go to private schools, that few people can afford. There are also public colleges, with few students admitted, only the best ones, and he is one of these. He studied Medicine and now works at Lindi hospital. He hopes one day to be able to get a Master Degree abroad, it would be great for his CV, but it’s very hard to get a scholarship. We passed by a group of people I saw at the beach last night, when they had invited me to pray with them. Francis explained that they are doing their singing rehearsal. At the beach because with the noise of the ocean they have to sing louder and their voice becomes stronger. Or something like this. At one point I had to say goodbye to meet Cuthbert.
More people invited me to watch the match with them, everyone is very kind, the ocean is just feet away (the sound of the waves cradles me in the night), the guesthouse is nice and at a good price (today they even cleaned the room, changed the linen and added a clean towel and soap; only toiletpaper is missing)… I am thinking of staying one more night. Let’s see how I wake up in the morning.
I don’t think I’m going to see the second half of the match, I’m half asleep already.