kwakasasi

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hey!

i have the motorcycle now, it is an old chinese knock-off bike, a 125cc, the brakes are good. everything seems good, it has been inspected by a mechanic, and even though the mechanic had no shop, just a tin roof and a screw driver, no shirt, grey beard, sitting in a squat, things are done here more by instinct that certified knowledge, he could tell what was in order and what was not by tapping the screwdriver against the engine casing. down at the registry three old woman squatting on the dirt in an unlit cave beside an ancient typewriter put an official stamp on the change of ownership document after much consideration and five dollars extra. there were some helmets hanging off a pole on the side of the road, i picked one off and tried it on, the sides had been warped by the sun and i pushed at it with my thumb and my thumb went right through the brittle plastic, you break it you buy it and it was five dollars, so my helmet is not the best and i will have to upgrade. there are four thousand kilometers between here and cape town, the bike goes no faster than seventy km/h especially with the state of the roads, i could see doing an average of three hundred kilometers a day, if i drove straight it would take somewhere around two weeks, but i am not in any rush.

hassan has a brother, ali, who is a police officer here. he is twenty five and married with two three year old sons. he has been pushing a lot of buttons for me around town so that i can get the bike on the road. his police badge is a piece of cardboard with a black and white photograph of him in a police hat, his name, his position, and an official stamp. the three of us had samosas for lunch yesterday from a tall metal box in the jungle an inch thick in flies, we sat in the dirt which turned to mud with rain and they were the best samosas i have ever had.

i will be back in dar es salaam on sunday, with the bike now, and after some time arranging a mozambique visa i can head south using the compass that i have bought. already i have had my shoes repaired and prepared for the journey, they are canadian military issue gorilla boots that i had walked the heels off so that nails were biting into my feet, four renegade shoe mechanics under a shredded tarp took them, gave me loaner sandles, cut pieces of tire from a heap of wierd rubber garbage and glued them to my soles, they felt guilty of doing a rough job and refused my money, i think they look great.

a fellow took me aside in the street yesterday and told me that i had to give him 8$ or he would find me later and pluck out my eyeballs and worse, he was huge and crazy and high, i ran as fast as i could but he chased me at least a kilometer through packed streets yelling "you can run but you can't hide". it was near where all of the used books are and ever since i haven't gone back that way. the only book left to read back at the bububu treefort where i am staying is Ulysses which i have already tried to read but can't make out a word of. so i am in a fix. the thing is that here in stone town it is a maze of tall rock buildings and narrow passages that are impossible to navigate by any way other than hopeful wandering, and now i am afraid to bump into this fellow in there.

i have to run,

-love jasper

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Comments

[Papa]

Safety First
April 24/08 Dear Jasper, Congratulations on your two wheeler purchase. I urge you to get a first class approved helmet. Ride safely, and enjoy. Love from Papa