June 12, 2012
I’m still in Lindi. The ocean convinced me to stay longer. Tomorrow I should leave, but I don’t know if I will be able to go. Kilwa, my next destination, is also by the ocean, but here the guesthouse is right on the beach and it’s nice to wake up in the morning and find myself here.
I spent the day relaxing. I woke up at 6.30 as usual. After breakfast I took a walk on a hill nearby to see Lindi from above. Very pretty, with the houses among the palm trees and the bay at the horizon. Then I spent three hours at a pub on the beach reading. I drank two fantas. Probably this is the reason why my stomach is so large, I drink too many sparkling and sweet drinks.
The beach was almost empty all day. But at 4.30pm it started to liven up. At that time it’s not too hot anymore and people go to the beach after work. Someone plays football, others run, some bath, fish with their hands, some boats come back with their catch to sell, there’s the usual group that sings and prays.
I’m sitting in a corner looking at all this. While he’s waiting for his turn at football, a boy dances. The women would like to take part to the fish auction, but they can’t stop dancing. The music call is too strong. The director of the auction doesn’t seem to mind too much because he is also dancing. They seem possessed. Someone asks something to the women, and they answer without stopping dancing and singing. They put a basket full of fish on their head and dance back home.
A little girl covers her eyes with her hands so she doesn’t see me. I must really scare her. Now she’s peeking from in between fingers. It’s not the first time a child cries seeing me. The closest they brought him to me, the hardest he cried. Poor boy… On my left they keep going with the gospel. They invited me to join them on the conga line, but I prefer to watch. Emmanuel comes closer “God Loves Your!”. J explains that they come to the beach to sing their gospels from Sunday to Tuesday. On Sunday morning there’s the Mass at the church on the hill if I want to join. I like this way of praying, with dances and songs, all excitement and involvement. Deborah and Sabrina are keeping me company. When I understand their names it means they are Christians.
Here comes a boy selling chungwa, oranges. I don’t want any, but I buy one each for my friends. While he peels an orange here comes another child. At the end it’s ten oranges, divided among about 20 kids, and there are none left (in the meantime looking at those juicy oranges I had decided I wanted one too). We take some pictures, but there’s always someone doing a face, I don’t understand why they always do it.
It’s almost dark. I go to town for rice and vegetables. I also accept a passion fruit juice, which probably has some water in it, I’m expecting some consequences. I go back to the guesthouse and the boy at the reception wants to talk to me. He wants to teach me some Swahili. So sweet! If I found someone willing to teach me Swahili during the day I would probably stay longer. And here we are at the usual questions. He is 24 and not married. He can’t marry, his life is too bad. First he has to become the boss. From receptionist to boss, I hope it won’t take him too long.
9pm, Na kwenda kulala (I’m going to sleep). What a beautiful languate Swahili is!!