Merry Christmas

It's Christmas Eve in Tanzania!

I have mixed feelings about this.

On the one hand, I miss, miss, miss family and friends back home. The Christmas Spirit doesn't seem to be as feisty and festive as it normally is for me.

On the other hand - there are no traffic jams anywhere and I know there definitely is a God because this year, I've been spared the endless Search for a Parking Lot in the mall and the

Hmmm.....I suppose it all evens out in the end.

The important thing is to be glad that friends and family are healthy, safe and happy. If that's true, it really doesn't matter which part of the world you're at!

So here's to a Merry one :

Housekeepers - friends or foes?

I can't believe how much I have come to depend on my maid (wait - maid sounds very politically incorrect so maybe I should use the far more respectable-sounding housekeeper).

Anyway, my housekeeper, hasn't turned up for the past couple of days. Apparently she's down with malaria.

I say 'apparently' because I happen to know that she's not particularly of the "tell the truth or die" way of thinking. So I've learned to take whatever she says with a grain of salt.

I caught her the other week when she tried to get me to pay her twice in the same month. When I went to South Africa at the end of November I decided to pay her early knowing that I wouldn't be back by the 1st of Dec (which is usually her pay day). So, with only good intentions at heart, I paid her December salary at the end of Nov before I left.

I get back here and she tries to pull the 'ol "wool over the eyes" routine by pretending that I hadn't paid her yet. I might have fallen for that one but I'm the sort of person who can get pretty obsessive about keeping records (especially financial records). So I'd actually written the date that I'd paid her in my little money book. She didn't get away with that one although it's not because she didn't try!

That's why, when she mentioned she had malaria, I'm more likely to think that she's been bitten by "lazy mosquito" instead and wants to stay home. Either way, its not like I have a choice - I HAVE to believe her.

Actually, I'm okay with her not turning up when she's ill of course but what really bothered me was the fact that when I called her yesterday to see if she was okay, she assured me repeatedly that she'd be well enough to come to work today.

So, I went ahead and bravely used every pan that I had in the kitchen to cook dinner last night (I suddenly felt like cooking up a Thai meal and it required a fair bit of preparation). In anticipation of her arrival today, I did absolutely nothing about the cleaning.


The bits of food are still stuck to the pans and the plates are all dirty and dry - yuck!. I normally abhor dry, dirty dishes greeting me in the mornings and generally clean as I go but didn't this time assuming that the housekeeper would take care of it.


So, imagine my horror when I realized today that she isn't coming. I tried to call and she had infuriatingly turned her phone off. Sigh!

Sometimes I think I should have just stuck to doing everything myself without any help. At least then I'd be aware that any mess I made would be a mess I'd have to clean up myself!

Back again.

I'm back.....and I wish I was still in South Africa. After all that access to wining, dining and mall walking I am at a loss as to what I'm supposed to do with myself now. I know I should try to download all my SA pics but I'm slightly afraid that I'm going to feel bad that civilization is far away right now!

So, currently, I'm sitting around feeling a teensy bit sorry for myself. Thankfully the sun's out so I don't feel too blue but this morning, I wanted to book a ticket out of here and go home to KL!

No matter how long I stay here and how much I've come to love it, sometimes a Land With No Malls just isn't good enough!

South Africa...here I come!

The Engineer and I are off to South Africa - woo hooooooo!

I am SO excited. We'll be visiting Cape Town and Johannesburg and the best part is, we're hooking up with The Boss and Girlfriend! We haven't seen them in MONTHS and I'm so happy we get to hang out again after so long!!

I have only one problem - I'm a Diva and I'm having a HUGE problem with the packing.

I'm going to be there for 11 days which means a whole lot of outfit changes (don't even get me started on the shoes!). So what does a girl, who wants to appear fashionable after living in the boondocks, do? Get over enthusiastic and overload the suitcase, of course!

The Engineer, who hasn't packed and is planning to share the suitcase with me, is in for a rude shock when he gets home later.....

I hope he takes pity on me and lets me have the whole suitcase to myself....keeping my fingers crossed.

I'd better get back to packing.....

Will write with news from South Africa when I get back *blows kisses*

Udzung- what?

So, we went to the Udzungwa Waterfalls last weekend. Our little posse comprised The Engineer, The Sales Guru, Peacekeeper and Chef (Peacekeeper and Chef are two really nice girls we met recently who are American and Canadian respectively)

It was a 2 hour trek uphill to get to the falls.... 2 hours which means 120 frightful minutes which means 7,200 awful seconds.....and did I mention that every single one of those seconds were spent walking uphill????

I don't know what possessed me to agree to a weekend spent outdoors hiking, for crying out loud! Hiking is a fancy outdoorsy word for walking. I avoid walking from my car to the entrance of a mall that's why I park as close as I can to the doors. Why would I want to walk about for hours in the sun?

It's just that I've been thinking that I should try new things and seeing as I'm an indoor (nail-polishing, eyebrow-tweezing, fashion-magazine-reading) kind of gal, I thought the great (?) outdoors would be a good place to start.

I don't know why I keep doing this to myself because the outdoors, much like a woman, can be great to the ones who know how to love her but can be significantly nasty to the ones who don't! That's why they call her Mother and not Father Nature!

To be honest, I was admirably patient for the first half of the trip. I didn't say a word when we had to get out of bed before 6am to start the 6 hour journey. The road never seemed to end although the scenery was really gorgeous at times:



I didn't complain when I had to use one of those holes in the ground that pretend to be a toilet (boy, did I want to run out of there fast...phew!!!) I didn't even grumble when the car developed tire problems and we ended up in the middle of Goodness Knows Where trying to procure a valve for a tubeless tire.

Thank goodness, Peacekeeper speaks Swahili and easily conveyed what we needed to the tire guys.

Unfortunately, she found out more than I bargained for when the tire guy enquired in Swahili if I was attached...apparently he 'liked' me. Not to sound like a total b**ch but did he really think he had a shot? I suppose he deserves kudos for trying. I'm sure self-improvement gurus like Dr.Phil and Stephen Covey would congratulate him on his ability to think positive! Here he is, fixing the tire:




We eventually arrived at our 'resort' at Udzungwa after being delayed for two hours because of the tires. Now, about that resort - there should be an international governing body that monitors the use of the word resort. If I were lying I'd tell you it had a certain rustic charm but I'm telling the truth and charm isn't a word I'd use to describe the place. On the upside, it was clean, quiet and served a limited but delicious selection of food. This was my dinner:


On the downside, it featured a feeble fan that did nothing to stave off the raging heat of the afternoon and the pillows and mattresses felt like they were filled with small pebbles. Plus when we got back from our climb all hot and bothered (well, at least I was bothered) we discovered that there was no electricity and they didn't have a generator!!!!!

We couldn't attempt the climb on the same day we arrived since we only had a couple of hours of daylight left so we did what all good holiday makers do and drank ourselves silly.

Despite the booze, we didn't stay up too late and managed to start up the hill fairly early the next morning. I was initially enthusiastic but my patience ran out in about 5 minutes. That was the instant it dawned upon me that all I had ahead was an upward winding path that didn't seem to have an end and my only reward at the top was some waterfall.


An hour into the climb and I was ready to slap myself for agreeing to come on the trip in the first place. No one else in the group shared my lack of enthusiasm. Peacekeeper and Chef, both very fit girls, are the sort of people who relish pushing themselves to a physical limit (I'm SO not like that!). The Engineer and the Sales Guru had their machismo to fall back on. After all, no man is going to give up halfway through a physical task when girls seem to be able to do it with minimal fuss! So there I was, among all these outdoorsy and macho types, thinking that it would be so easy for anyone to pick me out of the group because I really looked like I didn't belong.

For instance I saw this tree with a vine wrapped around its trunk

At first glance, I thought that the vine was a wire that led up to a lightbulb up in the branches and that the Udzungwa people lit up the path for night climbers or something! I suppose you can take the girl out of the city....

Anyway, after huffing and puffing, I arrived at the top of the hill in one piece and was rewarded with this view (everyone else also arrived at the top of course but didn't huff and puff as much) :



Gorgeous as it was, I still didn't think that the climb was worth it. Why couldn't we just get air-lifted to the top? For a two hour uphill trek, I expect the Niagara Falls not the Udzungwa Trickle:



Still, it was a challenge and I must say that eventually the adrenalin kicked in and I began to feel good about myself. Here I am trying not to kill myself on the sharp rocks leading to the falls....


Here are my fellow climbers who, unlike me, navigated the rocks at lightning speed and got into the pool long before I did:



Finally in the pool (didn't bring my bathing suit so I look like a super freak!)



Unfortunately, the thrill of the clean, cold water after the long, hot climb eventually faded. Don't get me wrong....I was still feeling fairly pleased as we descended the hill and was all ready to dance for joy when we FINALLY reached the bottom. That's why I was totally unprepared for the proverbial last straw that was thrown in my face.

It turned out that the starting and ending point of the stupid climb were not the same. Translation: we had to walk another 1km in the BLISTERING heat to get to the car!!!!! Just as I thought I was going to be surrounded by blessed air-conditioning, I had to walk in the sun AGAIN! My blood boils even when I think about it now...grrrrr!!! Everyone else escaped my mumbled grumbles but the poor Engineer, who was stuck walking with me, had to listen to me going on and on about how I wish I was getting a manicure at the Kilimanjaro Kempinski instead of dying a slow death in the heat at Udzungwa.

Well, after that, I was determined to get the hell out of there asap and even volunteered to drive (just so I could make sure that we could leave fast!).

Pros and Cons:

The Positive: 1.The fun crowd I hung out with
2. The dip in the super cold pool after an arduous journey in the heat
3. The tightening of my buns after having to walk uphill for 2 hours.

The Negative: Everything else.

Verdict:

From what I've heard from mothers, childbirth is something you'll attempt again only because you eventually forget the pain.
I'm going to say that hiking is like childbirth. I'm going to attempt it again only when I forget the misery which is to say I''ll probably go on another hike like..... never!

Reading by the Sea

A couple of Saturdays ago, The Engineer and I decided to head down to South Beach. There are two ways to get to there:

1. The ferry
2.The road

The ferry is technically the shorter route. The ride lasts all of 15 minutes (at the most) but the problem is, you have to wait an additional 2 hours to get on the thing which hardly seems worth it.

After having suffered through other ferry waits during our previous 2 visits, The Engineer and I decided to risk the road even though we weren't certain of the route. Roads are not clearly marked in Tanzania and our appalling Swahili speaking skills would prove no help at all if we ever had to ask for directions.

Despite these risks, we felt that driving down the wrong road would still be 'driving' as opposed to sitting like a pair of losers in the never-ending queue to the ferry - so off we went.

It turned out to be a fortunate choice because we arrived in just one hour, without making even one wrong turn! I credit this to The Engineer's impressive 'inner compass' that has been honed over his years of working in the field, optimizing mobile networks all over the world (goodness knows it's no thanks to me! I sometimes can't find my car at mall parking lots back home!)

Despite its extremely boring and grammatically incorrect name (there's more than one beach) , South Beach has a lot to offer the visitor who wishes to unwind by the sea. The Indian Ocean twinkles in the sun and seems to stretch to eternity. If you know where to go and you're really lucky, you can get an entire powdery white beach to yourself.

With this in mind, we gave the more popular (read: disturbingly crowded) beaches a miss and drove to a place called Kim's Kamp (apparently not just grammar but spelling is also somewhat of a challenge at South Beach *grins*) We knew of this place from our previous visit to South Beach with The Boss on Easter Sunday.

There was just one other family occupying one banda (hut in Swahili) in the short row bandas that faced the beach.



A Tanzanian man collected the entry fee of TSH3,000 each and brought us a little waste basket so we wouldn't litter the beach. After that, we were left to our own devices.

We chose our banda and spread out our Maasai cloth in front of it before placing the only two pieces of camping gear we own in all the world - a pink chair that doubles as a backpack and a picnic set. Both of these are fabulous presents from Pinky and I took a picture just so she'll know that her gifts are being put to good use! Thank you, Pinky *blows kisses*



The water was right in front of us - no obstacle to the view. It was so perfect that it looked like it had been painted just for us:



We spent all that afternoon reading (even The Engineer, who generally prefers the TV, was engrossed in The Kite Runner)


It was absolutely lovely to sit by the sea and read with no sound but that of ocean waves breaking softly on the shoreline.

Tanzania may lack Body Shop, Aldo and OPI nails but I must admit that every once in a while, it doesn't matter.

Hari Raya in Tanzania

Muslims the world over recently celebrated Eid. In Malaysia we call it Hari Raya which, when translated literally from Malay, means Celebration Day. The Engineer noticed that Eid is celebrated in a more sombre manner by the Muslims in Tanzania compared to those in Malaysia and I must say that I agree.

Back home, there'll be "lagu raya" or raya music blaring in every shopping mall in the weeks leading up to the big day and this never fails to evoke the raya spirit (I suppose this is an unfair comparison between Kuala Lumpur and Dar Es Salaam since there are no malls here from which to blare anything!).

Certain streets, even in the middle of KL, will be lined with little stalls selling Malay cakes, cookies, curries and other goodies every single evening throughout the fasting month. This is to cater to busy Muslims who don't cook at home when they break their fast every day.

However, an observer would notice that Malaysians (and even expatriates) from every race, religion and walk of life will throng these little stalls for a taste of excellent Malay cooking at very affordable prices.Thinking about all this left the Engineer and I a little homesick so we decided that we couldn't go home to Malaysia then we'd have to find a way to bring a little bit of Malaysia to us.

So, I downloaded some of our favourite Raya songs online and played it full blast while we both cooked up a very Malaysian meal - nasi lemak. It's a very simple and delicious dish of coconut rice and boiled eggs eaten with a spicy, sweet anchovy sambal (sauce). This is what we came up with:




Considering that we were both previously good only at eating nasi lemak and had never tried making it (we usually wait for our mums to cook it up for us), we thought it turned out pretty good.

Silver lining: We didn't capture the true feel of the Malaysian Raya spirit but now, at least, we know how to make a pretty good nasi lemak!

The Shopping Ogre

I had a sudden and strong urge to shop last week - it was an attack of the Shopping Ogre, a creature that lurks just beneath the surface of my psyche and rears its monstrous head when I least expect it.

Just to be clear, The Shopping Ogre doesn't goad me into the goody-goody sort of grocery shopping which I normally do but the other kind of shopping - the guilt-inducing kind. It has previously been responsible for a host of unnecessary (but oh so lovely!) purchases such as Aldo shoes, Zara outfits and yet another book that will soon sit on the "I'm meaning to read it sometime soon" shelf at home.

Fortunately (or unfortunately depending on how you look at it) I'm in a place where malls are a distant dream. The reality consists of dukas* lining dusty, orange roads with, what often looks like, second-hand clothes within.

That didn't stop me though. There's this little duka that I pass by every day because it's right near my apartment. I've noticed that, of late, the clothes hanging on its glass doors look rather attractive. Last Wednesday, I finally caved and paid a visit.

Just so, I wouldn't forget that I'm in Tanzania (as if I could!) I stepped in to find that the air-conditioner had broken down and the inside of the little duka was approximately the same temperature as the centre of a furnace. This very Tanzanian picture was made complete with the presence of a fundi*, trying in vain, to resuscitate the dead air-cond.

Determined not to let this bother me, I browsed through the goods the young lady, whose shop it was, had hanging neatly on the walls. I thought it was truly ironic when she said that she gets her stock from Thailand. Here I am, a Malaysian, who can easily get clothes from Thailand at bargain basement prices back home, shopping for the very same sort of stuff halfway across the world and paying ridiculously high prices for it. I blame the Ogre!

I left 20 minutes later with two new blouses in my bag - my own blouse sticking to my back because of the oven-like heat that I'd barely survived.

I thought I had quenched the thirst of the Shopping Ogre but I was wrong. I was attacked once again on Friday while driving by yet another duka ( I told you there are only dukas here and no malls). There I was , minding my own business, when I caught sight of this, from the corner of my eye:



It was pretty, it was orange, it was a halter neck and I swear it was calling-my-name (maybe it was actually the Ogre again, whispering in my ear!)

Not one to ignore the call of Pretty Clothes I made a sudden U-turn, kicking up a cloud of orange dust in the dirt road and frightening the heck out of the taxi man behind me! I even endured this makeshift, flimsy changing 'room' (it's that thing hanging on the right - two rugs hanging from the ceiling!) to get my hands on the dress.

I ended up buying it and drove home quickly to try it on. I loved it so much, I went back and got the last one the duka guy, Eddie, had in stock. I have a bad feeling that Eddie and I are going to be good friends from now on especially since he explained that he gets his stuff from Zanzibar and that they are brand new (the labels on the clothes confirmed this)

The things Divas do to assuage the Shopping Ogre that lives within us...not even the looming threat of heatstroke, the risk of purchasing 2nd hand clothes (yech!) or the perils of dangerous U-turning will keep us away!

*Note to the blissfully unaware:
1. duka means shop in Swahili
2. fundi means skilled worker although the 'skilled' part can sometimes be a bit of a stretch!

The Little Potjie That Could

Before last Sunday, I wouldn't have been able to tell you what a potjie is even if you threatened to throw all my Aldo shoes into Lake Tanganyika (that would have been a true tragedy but there you have it).

A potjie (no, it is not, as I thought, pronounced pot-jee but poyt-kee) is an Afrikaans word describing a stout little three-legged cast-iron pot. It's not very large but do not be fooled by its size and seemingly innocuous appearance. It is a highly effective cooking tool and is extremely heavy (lift a potjie in each hand, 5 times a day, and you'd have Madonna envious of your defined arms).

The big deal is not the potjie itself but what South Africans put in the potjie - namely a delicious mix of meat and vegetables. Mysterious spices are thrown in and before long you have a lovely aroma floating in the air around the pot. Actually the spices themselves aren't particularly mysterious. The real mystery is the recipe. People are very proud of their potjie recipes and tend to guard them with their lives.

The reason I may appear wise to the ways of the South African potjie is because The Engineer and I were involved in a Potjie Kos Competition. Kos apparently means food in Afrikaans - so it was a Pot Food Competition (I'll stick to Afrikaans, it sounds imbecilic when you translate it to English!)

Anyway, quite a large crowd from the different departments at The Engineer's office turned up and some of them when to all sorts of trouble with the presentation. There was a team with a red carpet spread on the grass leading up to their table. The judges must've been impressed because the Red Carpet People people took home the prize for the Best Potjie even though I thought our potjie kos tasted better (talk about being a sore loser!) Some people arrived really early and already had the pot on the coals before anyone even had a chance to set up their tables.

Our team, on the other hand, turned up late and fumbled about for a long time. Here we are, finally getting our act together:

I was surprised things went as well as they did because there were people in our team who didn't know the difference between white onions and leeks! The guy proudly turned up with a bunch of leeks and announced that he'd brought the white onions. He later tried to redeem himself by saying that he'd confused white onions with spring onions. That doesn't explain anything at all because even if he thought he was buying spring onions, he still got it wrong - by no stretch, are spring onions leeks!

Overall, I thought we did really well as a team considering there were only two true-blue South Africans and everyone else was either Malaysian or Indian (with one Egyptian and one Ghananian thrown in for good measure). In fact our team was more varied than the ingredients that went into the pot!





The thing about cooking with a potjie is that it takes hours and hours and hours. After you've thrown everything into it, you've got to let it stew in its juices for ages so the meat really comes out all infused in the ingredients and very, very tender. Only problem is, there's not much to do while you wait. This is where the South African ingenuity really comes into its own...what does everyone do? Well, they drink of course! Drink themselves silly!

I must say it's fun. It's a day in the sun, spent with drunken friends. What could be more fun?

After a number of beers, some of the men (including The Engineer) began to (predictably) misbehave.

The hostess of the competition, the always gracious Lannie, had thought ahead and rented one of those bouncy castle slide thingees for the kids. Before long, the poor kids had to stand aside as the real kids took over. With all the jumping and extra weight, I expected the thing to burst but it, fortunately, didn't.

Some of the guys began to compete to see who would get to the end of the slide first (as if the potjie competition wasn't enough already). The Engineer and The Sales Guru dove in twice and The Engineer won both times.


No doubt, buoyed by his recent wins, The Engineer took on another friend, The Egyptian who gave him a good run for his money and won by a hair. The two of them then ran the risk of twisting their limbs and ending up in a sling by competing a bit too seriously. The Engineer, who went without a shirt in the slide, proudly showed me his 'war wounds', a couple of long scratches on his chest, the next day....boys*rolls eyes*

All in all it was a great day even though we didn't win but winning was never the point! That's the thing about South African events, win or loose, you are guaranteed three things: the outdoors, good food and a great happy heap of booze!

The Sporadic Blogger

This is my punishment for being a sporadic blogger. Now that I'm brimming with tales to tell, the Internet is not cooperating with me!

I just can't seem to download the pictures....it takes ages and then dies out on me!

Sigh! I may be a sporadic blogger but I sure ain't a quittin' blogger, so I'm a gonna keep on tryin' (dunno why I've suddenly adopted a Mid Western accent!!)

Dar Day

I'm having one of those 'Dar Days' as Pinkie calls them. It's a day when you wish you were anywhere but here. What made it worse was the lousy, gloomy, dark-clouds-in-the-sky weather this morning. Awful.

A Clearer Picture

I just looked at my previous entry and realized that the "after" picture of Seacliff doesn't look burned at all (not that I'm glad that it is!)

So here it is again, much larger this time. Notice the burned charred window shades on the top floor, right side:


I happened to run into the guy who runs Top Knots (arguably the best and most expensive hair salon in Dar) at the Seacliff Village supermarket today and he says his salon is currently closed. It's not burned, fortunately, but investigation as to what caused the fire is in progress.

Perhaps it was arson (cue dramatic music...jeng, jeng jeng!)

Seacliff on Fire!

Seacliff was on fire!

There's a long story behind how I found out about this (goodness knows it wasn't through the local paper; I know I should read it but I don't).

I was baking cupcakes for the Bead Queen on Saturday afternoon because she just LOVES cupcakes and because I like her and I want her to eat them. Besides, she's going to have a baby soon and I think expectant mummys should get what they want:


I began baking at about 5pm and I made a HUGE MISTAKE by setting the oven temp at 220C instead of 200C. The cupcakes came out slightly burned and because I'm a perfectionist and because I don't want Bead Queen to eat burned stuff, I decided to make another batch. Unfortunately, I'd run out of vanilla essence. So....because I'm a perfectionist and because I didn't want Bead Queen to eat essence-less cupcakes I decided to go get some.

Anyway, long story short, The Engineer and I made a quick run to Seacliff Village Supermarket to get the stuff. On the way, we were overtaken by a rather slow, silent fire truck with flashing lights. The truck didn't really look like it was in a hurry to get anywhere as the driver unhurriedly negotiated past the few cars on the road. I initially thought that it was heading for some sort of Fireman Family Day or something until The Engineer spotted smoke billowing up in the sky, straight ahead of us..... turns out The Seacliff Hotel was on fire!

I had never seen a real fire before and like every other person there, was morbidly curious about it ( I turn away from road accidents and the like but couldn't stop myself from staring at this). At the time we got there, the fire was pretty much confined to the back of the hotel but because of the hotel's thatched roofs, it was blazing angrily and looked like it might leap onto the neigbouring Seacliff Village building as well:




In view of this imminent danger, I noticed that they had closed and evacuated Seacliff Village so the vanilla essence was a no go. I had to go to Shrijee's and get the cheap kind which I disliked doing but powers greater than myself had thwarted my attempt at procuring good quality vanilla essence...what's a girl to do?


The Engineer, being far more morbid than I am and far less bothered by the lack of quality vanilla essence,rushed to the roof of our apartment building, the moment we got home, to see if he could spot the flames at Seacliff from there (which he could). He was eventually joined by Bead Queen's husband, Bead King and their little boy.

The Engineer and I went back to Seacliff the next morning and discovered the damage:


As far as I know no one was hurt (thankfully!) and I'm seriously glad that Seacliff Village Supermarket (which I can't live without) and the Java Lounge (which I also cannot live without because of their fabulous cafe latte) has been spared.

I just feel bad for the hotel guests and staff who must have had a terrible fright on Saturday night.

Hummus Calamity

Results from yesterday's attempt at hummus - it was terrible!

I'm tempted to be a bad workman and blame my tools i.e in this case, blame the recipe but I must be honest and say that it was my own fault - I was impatient.

According to the recipe, I'm supposed to soak the chickpeas overnight (hummus is actually a cool foreign way of saying chickpea paste) , then boil them until they are soft. I waited for about 15 minutes and decided that they were soft enough which they were not!

That's where all my problems began because I had to blend them until they turned into a paste and they simply REFUSED to turn into a paste!!

I ended up with hard, lumpy hummus which I tried to rescue by adding olive oil and lemon juice but to no avail. It remained lumpy and tasted like mud. Awful!

The only thing I managed to achieve was to totally waste about 200ml of Extra Virgin Olive Oil which is like saying I threw away a bar of gold because that's what Extra Virgin Olive Oil is worth in Dar if you consider what it costs!

I'm not going to attempt hummus again....besides, The Engineer told me that during Ramadhan, Al Basha is open at lunch time on weekdays. Woo hoo!

Al Basha Groupie

I skipped breakfast this morning (stupid thing to do but I had immersed myself online and lost track of the time).

I am so RAVENOUS right now! I just can't stop thinking about the Lebanese food at my current favourite restaurant in the whole world - Al Basha. The best part is, a lot of the stuff there is really healthy and there's plenty of vegetables in almost every dish. It's almost too good to be true!

If you're wondering what's the fuss all about it, just look at it, isn't it beautiful?



I've already mentioned Al Basha in another post which only proves how much I love it there!

Unfortunately, their business hours are a bit erratic right now because it's Ramadhan (fasting month) so I might have to go without their hot pita bread, hummus and spicy lamb sandwiches for a while.

I don't think I can last the whole month though so I'm going to attempt to make my own hummus this afternoon.

If it turns out, I'll post the recipe in this blog but if it doesn't, I'm just going to beg the Al Basha people to start a delivery service!

New Look

Ooooh! I like the new look of my blog! I chose it mainly because of the girl. She's so cool...down to her stark, white hair and bright red nails! I'm inspired to work out and get that bikini bod of hers!

It was fun but I had to pay the price for updating the look of this blog....it took me AGES to get this up because I had to contend with the temperamental Internet that kept going on and off.

I've also not been posting for the past week because the people in charge of renewing my Internet subscription failed to do so and then took about a week to get it done once they had been informed...That's pole sana for you!

Still, I'm glad the net is back (temperamental or otherwise!). I know I sound like a junkie but I really don't know what I'd do without it!

A Moment's Notice

It's official. I haven't got a single spontaneous bone in my body.
Pinky sms-ed this morning with one line: want to go to SA?

I already knew what she was talking about. She'd mentioned to a few of us that she'd been offered free trips to South Africa.

The story behind it is that this other friend of ours has a company here in Dar. I don't know the exact nature of the business but I believe it has something to do with oil.

Anyway, this friend needs to transport oil samples back to South Africa almost every week presumably to have lab analysis done on them. Tanzania simply does not have the right facilities to support what she wants done.

Long story short, this friend often contacts Pinky and asks her if she'd like to take the samples down to SA (oh and did I mention that it's a Business Class return ticket?) Apparently, it's cheaper to send someone down to South Africa on a return Business Class ticket than to send the samples via DHL (all the wrong things are expensive here in Tanzania).

The samples will be collected at the Jo'berg airport so once that's done, the 'transporter' is free to do as she pleases for as long as she likes (I believe international air tickets are 'open' for at least a month, possibly more for Business Class).

There's only one drawback in this entire scenario. They never know when they'll need someone to go down to SA with the samples. In other words, the 'transporter' has to drop everything and jump on a plane at a moment's notice

Pinky says she finds this really hard to do since her two little boys need her around. I think mothers will tell you that you just don't do 'a moment's notice' when you have a child. The only 'a moment's notice' you do would be to catch valuable and breakable items at 'a moment's notice' when your child knocks them down from the mantel or perhaps rush to the clinic at 'a moment's notice' when he swallows a large coin. Going on holiday and the like is NEVER going to happen at a moment's notice so Pinky is largely not going to make it for the free trip (much to her disappointment).

I have no kids and even Charley (my kitty cat) isn't with me here in Tanzania. The Engineer is a big boy and can take care of himself so what's my excuse? Well, I can only say that anything done at a 'moment's notice' makes me nervous. Throwing caution to the winds makes me feel cautious!

I'm one of those 'what if?" people. What if I don't manage to pack everything on time (Pinky suggests that I should have a bag packed and ready and I didn't listen!) What if the person collecting the samples in SA doesn't turn up? What if I get stuck at immigration and they think I've stolen the samples? What if I run out of money? What if, what if , what if.

My biggest problem is that I have only one place I'd like to stay while I'm in South Africa and that's at Girlfriend and Boss' place. I hadn't informed her and what if I suddenly turned up and she's not there or she gets upset coz she had other plans? What if….here I go again!

Anyway, I don't think Pinky is going to inform me about this again since I'm such a chicken at doing things impulsively. I think I should decide to actually go through with it the next time she calls (if she gives me a second chance!). I'll warn Girlfriend about it beforehand and plan it nicely but if I do all that, then it won't be spur-of-the-moment thing now would it?

I think I'm going to give up and just be happy with my non-adventurous, non-impulsive self! Besides, all those travel-at-a-drop-of-a-hat people would end up starving or worse if there weren't any 'what-if' people like me to plan for eventualities. After all, it takes all kinds to make a go around the world!

Thirty-something Juicers

I've decided that I'm at the point where whatever I choose to do, health-wise, is going to have a lasting effect on the rest of my life.

The 20s are all about excesses and extremes - too much booze, too much food, too little food, too much smoking, too little sleep.

Yep, people in their 20s can get away with pretty much anything and wake up the next day looking like they've just spent a week at a health spa.

Anyone who's 20s are behind them will agree that this life of excess ends on your 30th birthday. Well, you can still choose to party all night, wake up at dawn and go to work but you're not going to look like you've just gone to a spa...you're going to look like you slept outside with a family of raccoons and woke up looking like one (complete with dark circles under the eye area and disheveled hair) :



In line with a new philosophy on improving our health (and a concerted effort to not look like raccoons), the Engineer and I have become smoothie and juice drinkers. We blend everything - celery, cucumber, strawberries, carrots, tomatoes and even spinach. If it's vegetable juice, we usually add a dash of lime/ginger for a bit of zing . If it's a fruit smoothie, we use yogurt and soya milk.

Before you conclude that we're a pretty hard-working pair, allow me to clarify that our sudden affinity for vegetable and fruit juices has less to do with diligence and more to do with laziness. We think it's a lot easier to take in our daily fruit/vegetable portions in juice form; that way we don't have to chew anything.... told you we're lazy goons *grins*!

I can't say that all the concoctions we've come up with are Food Channel material (the spinach is horribly bitter!) but some actually taste like creamy milkshakes (the strawberry, yogurt and soya milk mixture is exceptional!)

The one in the picture is a cucumber, celery and mint juice. I felt so healthy drinking it in the middle of the afternoon. I enjoyed it all the more knowing that I didn't have to deal with this mess....



Despite some of her rather alarming habits, I must say Sophia is heaven sent!

I used to wish I could return to my 20s but I've come to realize that my 30s are great....I know myself better, I understand what's really important in life and best of all....I don't have to clean up after I've made myself a smoothie! Life's pretty sweet!

raccoon pic courtesy of pikespeakphoto.com

The Land of Nat Geo Specials

Everytime I get used to the idea that I'm here in Africa ( I never dreamed that I would even set foot on the continent, leave alone live here for a year!) something happens to remind me that I'm in The Land of National Geographic Specials.

Girlfriend took this picture a few days before she left (sob! I still miss her lots):


If you look closely, you'll see that that leaf has legs and a head. It's not a leaf at all but an insect! Girlfriend and I weren't even in some exotic spot in the middle of an African jungle when she captured this. You might notice that the background is a marble wall....this was taken in the ground floor of Girlfriend's apartment building here in Dar!

I've never seen anything like it in my life... well not out in the open anyway, only on TV (maybe I should spend more time outdoors but that's another issue!). In Africa, you just have to step outside and a busy, crowded, remarkable world of nature awaits to greet you.

Sometimes, you don't even have to go outside. This is the view from our balcony...


I'm beginning to understand the world's fascination with Mother Africa. She has all the allure of a particularly exceptional woman....she's lush, she's mysterious and she's always surprising.

Fashion Police, Tanzanian Style

I was a rather busy bee last week. I went to the lovely baby shower for K on Tuesday and on Wednesday morning, I attended the South African Women's Group inaugural meeting.

I know, I know...I'm Malaysian, not South African so it might seem like I was crashing the party. In my defense, the organizers (one of whom I'd met through Pinky) were kind enough to let me attend because they feel that their meetings will be helpful to any expat.

I must admit, that despite their reassurance, I did consider running away at the last moment. Luckily I spotted the Bead Queen and K before making an escape so I stayed.

Michelle and Tania, the organizers, were really calm and everything ran smoothly. There were lovely snacks and even lucky draws! Looking at them, you'd never have guessed that they'd never held a SAWG meeting before (I'd have been a bundle of nerves - I'm not very good with crowds)

The speaker of the day was Helen, an Australian lady who has been living in Tanzania for 14 years. She had plenty of advice and a lot of the information was news to me.

For instance, I'd never known that Tanzanian people are largely conservative, even here in the middle of the biggest city. This means that 'revealing' spaghetti straps and low cut blouses are frowned upon. You're also in trouble if you're seen in army/combat pants/tops because only the real military is allowed to wear that (personally, I've never had the inclination to wear combat/military stuff because I think those designs are really unattractive. In fact, I think the military shouldn't have to wear them either!). She told us quite a horrifying tale about how intolerant the Tanzanians are when they believe someone or something is disrespectful of their culture.

A couple of years ago, a South African lady had taken her 11-year-old daughter for a quick shopping session in the middle of town. From what I gathered, the little girl was wearing a sleeveless top and short shorts and because she was an 'early-developer', the locals mistook her for someone a lot older. I believe she wasn't wearing anything under her top and when they saw her they immediately surrounded her and began shouting in Swahili.

This must have truly terrified the mother and the little girl as they did not understand what the crowd was yelling about. Fortunately, a shopkeeper came to their rescue by quickly throwing some cloth over the girl.

Tanzanians are not an aggressive lot so the mom and daughter weren't physically attacked but verbal disapproval, especially from a large crowd, must have been almost as frightening.

I thought back to the times I've been into town and there has been more than one occasion when I've strolled through the streets in a halter dress. I remember people giving me looks but I assumed that it was because they liked my dress (hey, its always good to think positive) plus I'm not 'endowed' enough to be 'spilling' out of the halter and didn't think it would be a problem.

Little did I know that they were probably contemplating telling me of for being a hussy!

From now on - only long pants and tops with sleeves for me since the Fashion Police in Tanzania seem to take their jobs more seriously than the real police!

Baby Showers

People who know me well, know that I'm not that into babies or kids. That's why I'm at my age and don't have a dirty diaper in sight (no, I'm not about to reveal what age that is!). At the moment, diapers and such aren't even on the horizon of my future and I'm perfectly content with that.

Considering my indifference when it comes to kids, I do enjoy baby showers. There's such a lovely, joyful atmosphere at these things. All the other ladies present seem to be so happy just to be around a pregnant belly. I can't imagine myself with one but I've always thought pregnant bellies look so lovely and cute and comfortable (although I'm sure they're really uncomfortable!)

The other ladies, who already have babies of their own, are full of advice and support for the mother-to-be. I'm often the odd one out (if you're reading this, Girlfriend, you know exactly what I mean and I'm all alone on this now that you're not here *sob*). I'm usually just standing around but I'm never bored because it feels like I'm watching some kind of addictive reality series.

I had another opportunity for some observation today when I attended a wonderful little baby shower at the Bead Queen's apartment. I might have mentioned before that the Bead Queen really knows how to throw a soirée. Everything is well thought out and even the tiny details are executed with style.

I arrived a little past ten this morning and the Bead Queen was in top form as usual. She'd even decorated her front door with little baby-themed print outs.

The food was fabulous.....


....the ladies looked lovely....


.....the presents were beautiful, all wrapped up...



.....and the babies were absolutely, cheek-pinchingly, adorable



When the mum-to-be arrived, she was asked to wear a sign on her tummy that proclaimed "Baby On Board/Mother To Be". I thought she looked so cute:


Despite me not being able to join in much,due to severe lack of knowledge about anything that has anything to do with babies, I managed to win a prize and I love it! Its incense, candles and bath salts...


Bead Queen had organised a game where we were all supposed to guess the girth of K's belly by cutting a length of string and my piece of string fit round her tummy perfectly! I guess I'm not good with babies but I'm clearly good with judging the size of waistlines (I suppose this expertise has developed from years of obsessing about my own!)

Its all so much fun and games with baby showers, if only babies are the same way..... I might actually consider having one!

Boat....er I mean Goat Races!

Goats are clumsy creatures. If you needed proof of this (unlikely but just in case you're involved in some sort of experiment regarding the agility of four-legged creatures or something), you'd just have to attend the annual Goat Races here in Dar to see that it's true.

There were only 2 reasons why The Engineer and I attended this event:
1. The races are for charity and you can't go wrong when you give money for charity
2. We thought it would be a hoot to watch goats go round and round a racetrack (this is evidence that weekend activities in Dar are severely limited)

We arrived at the Leader's Club where the organizers had created a makeshift oblong track in the middle of the field for the goats to go crazy in.

From what I gather about this event, groups of friends or families own the racing goats and on the big day, they get to dress up like clowns (literally) or in other really loud costumes and cheer their respective goats on.

The goats, unaware of all the hulaballoo, run around the track mainly because they have a group of young local handlers, chasing them with what looks like a thick, cylindrical contraption with handles.



They (the goats not the handlers) tend to stick together all through the first run around the track (they need to go around twice to complete the race). By the start of the second circuit it usually dawns upon one or two of the goats that this is in fact a race and that they're supposed to get ahead of their fellow goats.

At the last second one of them generally breaks away from the rest and is declared the winner.




It's quite entertaining to watch and there's something unexpectedly endearing about a bunch of goats running chaotically and comically toward the finish line.

Aside from the main event, there were tents selling the usual bric-a-brac (carvings, etc). The organizers were also going to award prizes to the most unusually dressed and the best hats. Hats off to those ladies with the hats on:


It was too hot to even think and some of these people were really courageous to turn up all turned out under that unforgiving sun!



I would have enjoyed myself more except that I'm a puteri lilin and the heat of the afternoon very quickly diminished my already dangerously low levels of patience. The Bead Queen was lucky enough to get tickets for the VIP tent but I later heard from her that the atmosphere was no cooler in the tent (which must have trapped the heat and created an oven-like feel - yikes!)

I won't lie - I was really glad to get away from the races and get home to the air-conditioners. Still, I'm glad we went. After all, boat races are a dime a dozen but goat races are priceless!

Limbo

I am currently neither here nor there. I'm not feeling ill enough to stay in bed all day but I'm not well enough to be prancing about outside either. This makes me feel restless and tired at the same time.

I blame this weird African flu virus thing that makes my bones ache and my nerve-endings feel like they're on fire. I also blame The Engineer. I think he passed it to me!!!

I got online this morning hoping to write something thought provoking and intelligent. Instead I can't provoke my thoughts into one intelligent sentence so I shall give up for now.

Going to crawl under the blanket and do something mindless like watch TV....

What you don't know won't hurt you

Quick question - what does a rubbish bin have to do with a dish sponge? Nothing, right? Well, much to my horror, my cleaning lady doesn't seem to think so.

I walked into the kitchen this morning and I saw her using the dish sponge to wipe out the waste basket- yes the BIN - where rubbish and various other refuse reside!!!! She'd removed the rubbish (thankfully) but hellow! It's the basket that holds waste product for crying out loud!

I thought of the bacteria, I thought of the filth and I admit I thought of throwing Sophia into the very bin she was cleaning.

With supreme effort, I managed to quell my initial reaction and told her (in what I hoped was a calm voice) that the dish sponge was to go nowhere near the rubbish bin. It was strictly for the dishes only.

Call me a freak but I've spent the most of my morning trying to stop myself from thinking about all the other mistakes that Sophia might be making when I'm not around.

She might be using the tootbrushes to clean the toilets, the floor rag to clean the refrigerator and the shoe brush to clean the sink. Who knows what other horrors are going to come to light but frankly, I'd rather remain in the dark!

What you don't know won't hurt you - at least I hope so!

pics courtesy of nittygrittymop.com and plantstuff.com