To Market To Market...

Hooray the weekend is here! Two have gone off with the Kilimanjaro Walking Group, to a lodge in the Arusha National Park for an overnight trip. Cynthia planned to go but unfortunately she didn’t feel well this morning so has had to stay behind. Me? I know that I need a bit of space to unwind, so I had planned to stay here anyway.

Saturday is market day and this was my destination. All our cars have gone to Arusha, so it is time to walk. Remembering some of last week’s lessons I set off early to try & miss the midday sun, and wore my hat. This was admirable, but would have been even more so if I’d remembered to take a bottle of water too – back home now, having drunk four glasses of water one after the other, I have reduced my thirst to merely desperate.

Setting off for the market I had noticed a Tuk-Tuk that had just dropped someone off. You wouldn’t normally see them up here so I flagged it down as it is cheaper transport that taxis and it struck me that the sooner I got there the sooner I would be back out of the sun. So, as I sat there praising my luck, we trundled off along the wide rutted dirt track to the market. En route I learned how to slide, hang on tight and lurch from side to side as we careered along – I wonder if I have been spoiled by 4 wheel drives? though to be honest I think it is proper flat roads that have spoiled me.

We hurtled round the corner up to a large gate where the market was; or at least should have been. Had I been walking, it would be at this point that I would have lain down and cried, because no market was in sight. Here again the valuable Tuk-Tuk showed it’s worth as he scuttled across the dusty, rutted wasteland until I could see, in the distance, the market. Hooray!

I had come armed with a piece of paper with all the numbers written in Swahili on it, so I would know what I was paying, however I had forgotten to include the words ‘how much?’ and ‘too expensive’.  Nevertheless, the little Swahili I have learned so far was useful, and people were very friendly.

There were hundreds of stalls in many, many rows, all selling clothes, shoes, bags and things, for this is the second hand market. I guess a large amount comes from tourists as there is a very western, if dusty, feel to the products, including. Kalvin Klein jeans and Luis Vuitton Handbags (!) But the majority are ordinary things, and it was to these that I was drawn. Such a wide range of colours, sizes, styles. Apart from the jeans, most female clothes were what I would call Big Mamas’ clothes, but hidden amongst the stalls were a few where they had found really tasteful dresses and it was amongst these that I wandered looking to augment my two-dress wardrobe.

 

I found a fun dress and bargained for it. I also got some lovely material to wrap around myself like a sarong – enough for me and a baby elephant it transpires – but that will be good to use at the pool.

Happy, I began to walk back, noticing how hot it was, because of course now it was the midday sun. I also noticed that everyone except me was walking on the other side of the road – in the shade – so I quickly nipped across. Around this time I praised the Tuk-Tuk for a third time because I would have been on my knees weeping if I had had to walk both ways. As it was I just sweated and walked, offering out the occasional ‘mambo’ to people (hiya). The nearer to home I got the more suspicious I became of my hat. It is purposefully broad rimmed to keep the sun off, but it does not have even a passing acquaintance with fashion, and my doubts were confirmed as the closer to home I got the more ‘pole’s I heard. Pole means sorry and is what you say to someone when you are sympathising with them. I suspect that they felt for me as dust clung to my sweaty face and the hat gave me that pitiable foreigner look.