Dar es Salaam – Heat, humidity and disrepair decay everything in this country but the roads seem to rot fastest. Every successive trip to Dar es Salaam is worse than the last; the bus is bumpier, the journey takes longer and the people are stinkier. The trip today took eleven hours, not counting an extra two hours waiting for the bus at the stage. It arrived after dark and so my search for a hotel was frightening; wandering alone in dark alleys in the slums of Dar es Salaam, in a section of a city I know to be dangerous, guided by penniless young men and carrying over a thousand dollars worth of cash and electronics. The hotel I’m staying at now doesn’t even have a name, but it’s cheap and the beds are comfortable. It’s also close to Ubongo, the central bus station, so I don’t need to worry about a taxi tomorrow.
The last few days have been a flurry of overseeing exams, grading, and saying goodbye. Because I left Ndanda a week early I had to grade fast and leave a lot of work to other teachers; I tried to trade, grading extra exams in exchange for them filling in the rest of the report cards but I don’t think they’ll hold up to their end of the bargain, and I would be surprised if my students are not missing their reports.
Diane, the British VSO health worker, is now gone; but two Swiss families have been placed here instead. Both families have young children who seem to be adjusting to Africa, although one has had a mild case of malaria already.
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