Gypsy camping and soggy skirts~

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After pushing my way out of Dar es Salaam to Lushoto and then to Tanga on a series of hot, slow dalla dallas and buses that seemed to always be on the verge of breaking down -loudly shaking down the road like we were preparing for take off- I opted to stop at the first beachside place that offered camping and call it my home for a couple of days. To save a bit of money I said I sorta had a tent and hoped they wouldn't say anything after I set up my mosquito net under their tent shelter. Everytime I go back to my little gypsy home I expect there to be a note saying that my 'tent' isn't adequate and I need to rent one- but so far so good. When people pass by they always give it a double glance, but that's probably just because it kinda looks like a yard sale with all of my stuff hanging on the net to add a little privacy:) But I've made friends with the old guard Joseph, so know that the most unsecure tent has a watchful eye on it. I shared some of my peanuts with him and we sat and talked about life and politics for a good hour in the shade- I gave him a couple of Obama stickers and he couldn't have been happier. After I got back from the dhow sailing trip to the island I found a bag full of fresh fruit and peanuts with a note from him. Just when I start to get sick of traveling solo and being hassled I meet someone like Joseph and it makes it all worthwhile.
Although a little damp I survived the one night of rain the area had gotten in months - I packed up my soggy belongings and walked to the road once more, saying goodbye to the lovely Indian Ocean and preparing for the journey west to Arusha and then up to Nairobi. Little did I know that the wet night would be an omen for the next day... Within a couple of minutes of sitting on my bag on the side of the road a passenger truck pulled up and heaved my bag into the back within seconds. As the minutes passed on the road we picked up passengers exponentially and soon the truck bed was packed with people- each time we would pull over for a new person they would hand up their luggage (ie. bags, babies and chickens) and it would be passed around until it settled. About halfway along we stopped for an overloaded mother- carrying more than her share on her head as well as a baby on her back. The baby was passed up and then because I was nestled towards the cab of the truck in a somewhat safe and comfortable seat the baby was passed to me with a watchful eye. I really did not want the responsibility for this small bundle of joy but I smiled and tried my best to look like I knew exactly what I was doing. You'd think as a women that it is supposed to come naturally- but being the youngest I was never in charge of baby sitting and being a foreigner holding a baby that was not mine in the back of the truck I was especially uncomfortable. But the baby was pleasantly calm and just looked up at me with curious wide eyes. I thought to myself- sure, I can do this no problem- just don't move... Then, just as I was getting used to the situation I felt something warm spreading on my lap- personal check, it wasn't me.... and now the baby was smiling- it knew exactly what it was putting me through. I didn't know how to go about the situation in the overcrowded truckbed- everyone was standing except for a few of us tucked into the corners, I didn't even know where the mother was or really which one she was to begin with! I got the attention of the first women that looked my way and lifted the baby to reveal my wet lap... she started to laugh hysterically- and then the entire truck erupted in hyena like laughs. Of course this had to happen to me- the one Mzungu (white person) on board. The mother quickly pushed her way through to me and grabbed the baby and apologized to me, not really knowing what to do herself. I poured what was left of my precious drinking water onto my lap- hoping it would diminish the smell but realizing it enhanced the visual draw to my now soaking skirt. Upon arriving at the bus station I quickly found a corner and exchanged my wet skirt with a shawl that I wrapped around. I jumped on the next bus and prayed that it would be a smooth ride to Arusha. Seven hours later I arrived safe and sound... only one more bus ride until I meet my plane in Nairobi!
Here are a few more random pics from the trip and I can't wait to see everyone! It has been an amazing journey...

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