We left the beautiful beach of Kendwa a few days ago, having grown sick and tired of paradise. Yep, that's right: I got sick of lying on a beautiful beach doing nothing. Never thought I'd say that! We hitched a ride with a large group of Aussies/Kiwis because things were still a little iffy in Stone Town due to the election (safety in numbers). The morning of the departure found me in our room at White Sands Bungalows packing my bag, the contents of which had kinda exploded into a big pile that was more on top of the bag than in it. Step one was to empty the bag. I lifted up a stuff sack and found beneath is a very flat, very dead scorpion. I uttered a little shriek as one tends to do in such situations, took the bag outside and attempted to shake the scorpion out. Instead, the critter slipped into a fold of the fabric and wouldn't budge. Z helped and together we managed to get the thing out and onto the porch. It still hadn't budged and we peered at it agreeing that it was very squished and very dead. I picked up my pack cable and nudged it into the grass. We both shrieked as the scorpion came to life, got up on its toes and scuttled into our room and hid under a shoe. I gingerly picked up the shoe and Z swiped it out the door into the grass. Seeing us staring at a patch of "lawn", one of the staff women asked us what was going on. When she heard that it was a scorpion she asked, "Were you fright?" "Kidogokidogo" was our response - a little bit.
Of course, I still had to pack and I very gingerly went through every pocket and fold in my bag looking for unwelcome guests. Lesson learned: always leave a bag zipped up.
Another lesson learned is that the best way to get rid of touts is to claim that you have already done what ever it is that they are offering:
Q: "My friend, welcome, this way, you have dinner, mzuri sana".
A: "No thank you, we have just eaten."
Q: "Jambo rafiki! You want spice tour? Very nice..."
A: "We have gone on spice tour, thank you."
Q: "Karibu sana. You come in, just looking."
A: "Thank you, I already have Massai jewelry/picture on banana leaf/wooden carving."
Q: "Taxi?"
A: "I am a taxicab, thank you."
Actually, the pressures to look and buy and do are much less than expected. Perhaps the street kids were all arrested after the unrest that followed the election? Perhaps people are so happy that Ramadan is over that they are too busy celebrating (and eating) to be a hassle? Whatever the reason, I am not complaining.
So, tomorrow we really do go on a spice tour (with ambivalence) and the day after that to Dar es Salaam. From there, who knows!
2 comments:
Thanks for the long-distance gift of the creepy-crawlies. But, as I have taxicab origins myself (on my mothers side), I'll just go in for a bit of the old ethanol and we'll all be right as rain.
having hear stories of this sort of hair-tingling encounter, i had to laugh and clutch my chair upon reading another tale of a close call--and so close to it actually happening! all the other stories reached my ears years after the events themselves. too bad you can't zip your shoes closed. We checked our shoes every day in Thailand. I did chase an enormous spider out of my cement room once, but it was not in any of my belongings.
our closest approximation of harrowing encounters these days is the van breaking down on the way to Acadia. it's now happened twice! But we did make it there the second time. And I hiked up a mountain to see the only US fjord, thought it's called Somes Sound. And we wrestled on a sandy (!) beach in the sun. I'll stop blogging on your blog now:)
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