Somali Pirates, Leggo My Eggo!

I suppose I doomed myself at the tender age of eight when I declared that my favorite Gilbert & Sullivan musical was The Pirates of Penzance.  Or maybe I can blame it on my father for when he violated Child Humiliation & Mortification Rule #1 and auditioned for a community production of Pirates of Penzance at my high school.  Despite who ends up footing the therapy bill, it is without question that pirates are causing me distress.

For one month I was unable to buy tahini, a staple ingredient in hummus.  Imagine that!  In other months I have had to go without cheddar cheese imported from New Zealand or Ireland.  And I’m frequently buying off brand diapers because Senor Huggies seems to be stuck out at sea.  Can you say humanitarian crisis? Yeah, yeah, there is poor transportation infrastructure, slow implementation of EAC common market conventions and rampant mismanagement at the ports.  But rather than get down on Tanzanian inefficiencies, I choose to blame the pirates because let’s face it, that’s about as sexy as Johnny Depp and will make for great cocktail party chatter once we come back to the US!

The other day a friend told me that in making a decision on what car to import from Japan it was important that it be a diesel vehicle because if Tanzania ever devolved into civil war or other violence there would always be diesel but likely no petrol.  I kind of chuckled at the doomsday sentiment but fast forward to today when I went out in search of petrol for the generator and I had to go to no less than three gas stations – absent any civil unrest.  Why did those first two gas stations have no petrol?  Oil tankers being diverted and/or hijacked by pirates of course!

And speaking of sexy, Somali pirates have digitally kidnapped my husband.  The international legal implications of their pillaging and plundering on the high seas of the Indian Ocean have taken hold of his brain and his fingers and led him to the darkside…the blogosphere.  The only ransom they will accept is cold beer, meal times, heavy eyelids and demands for Elmo DVD’s.  Go over and check out his musings so we can compare site stats over dinner.  His avatar is a Southpark pirate, how can you resist that?

[Disclaimer: Somali piracy has once again touched our lives with the tragic death of four Americans sailing around the world.  I send my deepest condolences to the victim’s families and in no way reduce the piracy situation to my own lack of unnecessary extravagances.  Please keep in mind my tone is completely tongue-in-cheek and is really just a shameless plug for Roger’s blog]

Get Rich Quick!

Short on cash these days?  Unemployment check just not making ends meet?  Want to take your caffeine jolt in the Starbucks Trenta?  Then consider getting into the generators for East Africa business!  Don’t want to store that entire inventory in your garage?  Just start a generator repair business and you’re likely to make a killing! 

Daily, inconsistent, random and lengthy power cuts are the new vogue in remote places like Tanzania and the expats can’t get enough of the soothing hum of a generator motor or the aromatherapeutic odors of gasoline.  They’re willing to pay anything for a generator and its maintenance so that their overpriced boxed milk doesn’t spoil and their iPhones don’t loose their charge.  Unable to waste the day away online, it’s causing some unnamed expats to develop crazy behaviors like consistent exercise routines, blowing through e-reader libraries and staying on top of current events (Go Egypt!).  It’s even driving some to boutique hotels that have real ice cubes and McDonalds-style fries to abuse its Wi-Fi and download from iTunes like crazy (even in HD!).   If foreign direct investment is still not your cup of tea, just go to Vegas and start betting on when the long rains will commence and when the national power company will be able to close the electricity deficit.  And when you make your first Benjamin, you better cut me in for throwing this insider tip your way!

Does KFC Deliver to Tanzania?

A very Happy Thanksgiving our turkey brethren!  Anyone in a food coma yet?  As of the writing of this post, we haven't had any coma's 'round here, but that could all change come 5 o'clock today (9am EST) when we go to a friend of a friends house for some delicious grub.  Luckily for our host, the dinner is being catered otherwise she might very well loose her mind with all the freaking power cuts we're having these days!

We are planning our own little Tanzgiving on Sunday once my dad and his friend Lynn arrive in Arusha.  Two days ago Roger and I watched Julie & Julia and I got inspired to clog my arteries make Julia Child's roast chicken for Tanzgiving, so I planned a menu accordingly.  It involved Moroccan Carrots, mashed potatoes, broccoli with bacon, FRESH cranberry sauce, rolls and apple crisp.  Unfortunately, Arusha had another menu in mind.

It all began Weds actually when I went the butcher shop, Meat King, that advertised fresh cranberry sauce imported from who knows where (kind of cancels out the "fresh" part, I realize) and they confessed that someone forgot to put the cranberry sauce on the boat.  That was followed up by two nights in a row of 12 hr power cuts.  Then once power was restored, as well as my thankful and sane heart, the Tanzanian National Electric Company decided to toy with my emotions by sporadically turning the power on and off for five hours.  It is a sheer miracle of the heavens that I managed to get a Spiced Applesauce Cake made for our party tonight.

The outcome of all this (including a delicious looking apple cake that was aided by turning off all power sockets in the house except for the oven so the generator could git 'er done) was shoving our 2 kilo bird into the freezer and putting Khan's Chicken on my speed dial because, my friends, we are getting take out!

I realize I have a slight flair for the dramatic [mother and Roger stifle a laugh], but that's why you visit It's Kili Time, right?  I just hope you also know that all dramatizations recounted here are all made possible by the many wonderful things in my life for which I am DEEPLY appreciative, in particular my health, family, well being, red patent leather flats and the opportunity to connect with you via this platform.

When expressing your thanks today, do so while running all high voltage appliances, just because you can.  A very Happy Electrifying Thanksgiving to all!

Dust: A Rant

Today is the first day of November.  This is significant because everyone in Tanzania tells me that November is when the rains begin.  Alright then, rain.

We did not wake to a torrential downpour.  No, we woke to another sunny day that is obscured by only the 100 trillion particulates in the air known as dust.  Ugh, the dust!!!  Why does it have to be so bad?  Why can't it stay in its behind-the-sofas and on-top-of-unread-books home?  Why does it have to reside in my throat, on every flat surface, under the fingernails, upon the computer keyboard and all over the resident toddler in the house?  Oh, right, because hardly any of the roads are paved!

A short cut around traffic.  Picture not even taken through the car window.

Not to paint you a primitive picture of where we live.  Far from it, in fact.  We have the "World Wide Web," wi-fi no less, and even laminate flooring in our house!  There is even, wait for it, a washing machine!

But just beyond the doors of this technology mecca is a dirt road.  Actually, many dirt roads.  I would say about 70 percent of the roads in Arusha are paved.  Not bad considering just 10 years ago that number was probably more like 20 percent.  But those roads are mostly in the commercial areas.  All residential areas and "short cuts" have graded but unpaved roads.  Which as you can imagine generates a lot of dust in a place that hasn’t seen rain in about 6 months.  A less conceited person might wonder "Oh no, what about the crops?  Isn't agriculture the major industry in Tanzania?"  Yeahyeahyeah.... what about our nasal passages, people!  Dust + 20 month old petri dish = lots of colds! 

You're probably thinking this situation warrants some kind of humanitarian intervention that should be addressed by a little spare change from Mr. Gates?  Well, that would be nice.  But we'll settle for you joining us for this little glass of whine and maybe a prayer or two for some rain before bed.  In fact, if you need a reason beyond this self-centered moan, a good downpour would help disperse the masses who are gathering in town to celebrate/contest the pending election results from yesterday.

More perspective on The Dust from our good friends here, 66% of whom have already gone back to 'Merica.

Life in Arusha - Really? You have to stop your car there?

Driving in Arusha requires a lot of cojones.  You have to be as bold and aggressive as you are defensive.  The majority of all roads (including the HIGHWAY to Nairobi) are technically one lane in both directions as noted by the dashed line down the middle.  But drivers generally treat the road as their own personal lane/road and don't really regard any other co-habitants, such as cars, people, bicycles and mkokoteni's.  Although we have adapted well to this new style of driving, I never cease to be amazed on a daily basis by some of the manoeuvrings I witness (or even pull myself!).  Usually what it involves is a  mini bus blazing up the center of the road to leap about 100 places in line of traffic.  It doesn't matter that the passage between the two lanes is narrower than the width of a mini bus, they'll find a way through.  In many ways, it's like a game of chicken.  It's simultaneously obnoxious and terrifying.

A particularly irritating manoeuvre is when a vehicle breaks down/gets in a wreck/has a flat tire, they will stop in the exact place the malfunction occurred and impose their personal inconvenience upon all traffic.  Last week while traveling up the bumpy dirt track to my friend's house, a sedan car broke down at a narrow point in the road (a point in which two cars can barely pass at the same point).  I was a couple cars back and thought maybe the car was just going slow so as not to bottom out.  But then what should I see?  The trunk pop open, a red tarp pulled out and very neatly laid under the front of the car (really? you break down so much you have a tarp in your trunk!?).

Since I had to queue up to attempt a passing of this [insert derogatory name calling here], I was able to reach for my camera and snap this (but no time to adjust the white balance, Dad!):

You will note how tight it was for that sedan car on the left.  Try stuffing our big fat 4Runner through there!  And to top it off, the pedestrians don't even move!