It's all fun and games until someone gets body checked by a prostitute.

This weekend was AMAZING amazing. Friday we had a test in Swahili so after I wrote down some jibber jabber we headed to the roof to hang out since it’s 9 stories up and has the most beautiful view of the city. It was locked, but Elizabeth and I hacksawed onto it last week in what was probably the worst idea I’ve ever co-developed. Now it’s just a giant mockery house since I’m apparently the only logical person in this country. I’m not even afraid of heights, but I am afraid of plummeting to my death, so god only knows why these senseless lunatics keep making fun of me for army crawling all over the roof. Honestly. But besides some scrapes on my stomach, it was a chill afternoon, although I started panicking when I realized that all the other programs were on organized excursions this weekend so Elizabeth and I had to teach the woodcarvers without any help whatsoever. When we got there she seemed to be doing fine right off the bat, but the advanced/intermediate group utterly floored me. They came in with lists of words they’d encountered and needed defined and I was up there fumbling through English definitions of “condemned” and “hustler,“ thanks to 50 Cent, Tanzania‘s favorite musical artist behind Tracy Chapman. I encouraged everyone to try to make sentences demonstrating knowledge of their vocabulary and I got things like, “I was condemned when I was eight years old,“ and “Lajabu is a hustler”. Good job, guys. Then I accidentally said something about diarrhea in Swahili, and realized that people in glass houses shouldn‘t throw stones. Still, I had a great, great time and even though Elizabeth and I were left circling the Ubungo-Mwenge loop on the dala dala system a good hour longer than usual, it left me with an unbeatable sense of accomplishment. Then I went to bed.

But it was okay! We had a free weekend to do whatever we pleased, so we split in half and four of us went to the Miss Tanzania pageant (I’m awaiting news) and the other five of us went to a beach a ten-minute ferry ride from Dar. I was part of beach crew, and it was the best decision ever. The dala dalas were too packed so we ended up having to split, so Hannah and Elizabeth hopped on the first dala dala that came through. Unfortunately for them, the crew decided not to follow its usual route and we watched with horror as their bus turned left and head up a mountain in the opposite direction. C’est la vie Tanzanian. The rest of us made it in good time (survival of the fittest, dawg - and they got there eventually), and about forty babies later (people just hand them to you when they get tired of them), we paid Tsh 33, 000 (About $29) for all five of us to get a room, and then spread our towels out and watched this camel tote people up and down the beach. Really sweet, but not eventful. That night was better, because they played “Livin’ La Vida Loca” and “Waiting for Tonight” at the beach bar. We were all on the dance floor having a good time, when this nutso prostitute attacked me. I was minding my own business and shimmying with Megan, and in the blink of an eye I was face down on the floor, limbs flailing. I WISH I were exaggerating:

 

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Then we crammed four to a bed with Elizabeth on the floor (sorry, tall girl) and…didn’t really sleep at all. Because we were crammed four to a bed with Elizabeth on the floor. But the sunrise was pretty? And we went to breakfast (milk! They had milk!), and met this ex-Marine (Ted, I want praise) who’s in TZ laying fiber optic cables with some Dutch company. He ended up driving us back to the ferry port, which was incredibly nice, but more importantly he’s going to get us an in with the embassy because next week is FLEET WEEK. Squeal squeal squeal. Oh I can’t even tell you how much I love this country. Friends, relatives, countrymen - come visit:
1. Things are cheap. CHEAP. $29 for a beach-front tiki hut, $19 on Wednesdays? Come ON.
2. Prostitutes aplenty.
3. It’s TanzaNIA. Think of all the street cred.