the great leslie

I am sitting in stall number one at an Internet place in Mwanza, the third-largest city in Tanzania. It's a stifling little booth and the fan they've provided doesn't work. It's run by an Indian woman and there is Indian music playing in the background. My brother says many businesses here are run by Indians.

We arrived in Mwanza yesterday from Kasulu, where my brother has been living and working. It was a long journey, but I am very happy to be here. We are staying at the JRS House (Jesuit Refugee Services, the organization Drew has been working for). It's right on Lake Victoria, Africa's largest lake and the world's second-largest (Lake Superior is the largest). There are monkies playing in the trees and an incredible view, not to mention Western style toilets. I'm getting better at squatting, but truthfully, I'd prefer not to.

There are many things like this to adapt to in Tanzania. On our way to town today, a policeman waved us down for a ride up the street. He just jumped in the truck. Ummm...yeah, sure...hi. I uess this was better than him asking for money (which is common), but can you imagine if the NYPD started flagging rides from any dude in a Lexus? Might help in the war on drugs, I guess. Or make for more corrupt cops.

I was in Kasulu for Drew's last days. I met many of his co-workers and friends and attended the going-away sherehe that was held in his honor. It was quite the party, with roasted goat and fried bananas and skittles I brought from the US. He invited refugees from the camps he works with (his job has been editing a newsletter to let refugees know what is going on in their home countries). They are not usually allowed to leave the camps, so it was a great treat for them to go to a party and drink sodas and beer.

Drew was presented with many gifts from his co-workers and people in the camps. Each group put in money for the gifts and they present them together. The leader carries the gift on his head and the others follow in a dancing congo line. It's the coolest. They gave Africa-style shirts, jeans, fabric, and even underpants! The da-da (sister) received gifts, too. It was very touching. There is not much money, especially in the camps, but they give none-the-less.

Unfortunately, my arrival in Kasulu was marred with the discovery that half my money and my MP3 player were stolen. Some kind-seeming, welcoming person went into my things and helped him/herself. Now, I know to lock everything, but it was very distressing to think that a "friend" had stolen from me. But, as William Boyd pointed out in "A Good Man From Africa" (a book my boss lent me and which I just finished), seeming is different than being.

Tomorrow we are off to Zanzibar. I will not get go on a safari to see elephants, but I only have so much time. But, this visit has made me think that I should join a NGO and work in a foreign country for a year or so. And so, maybe I will return.

(Sorry about any misspellings/grammar mistakes. My minutes are almost up and this computer won't do spell-check.)