Flowers, Birds and Butterflies Weekend

Okay, I think I've exhausted my "just got back from a holiday" excuse and it's time to tell the holiday story....

Although I didn't plan it, the theme of the weekend turned out to be flowers, birds and butterflies - TOTALLY up my street!

We went to a little resort near Lake Duluti in Arusha called the Serena Mountain Village. You can apparently see Mt.Kilimanjaro on a clear day (Arusha is near the foot of the mountain) but the Kili was having none of it. It was cloudy most of the time so we didn't see a thing at the resort.

The only time the Kili decided to grace us with its presence was when we were going back to the airport (it was a lot clearer in real-life but this was the best we could get out of our good camera with the crappy zoom lens). If you squint your eyes and really focus, you'll see the snow-covered peak, peeking out among the clouds, right in the center of the picture.


The Engineer captured a better shot from the airport but the street lights are spoiling it and I don't know squat about cropping. Here it is anyway:


The Engineer says that Mt.Kili is one of the few tropical mountains in the world that can boast a snow-covered peak.

We initially had vague plans to hire a driver and go to Lake Tarangire from our resort. We've been told that you can see loads of elephants at the lake (apparently it's the equivalent of the local George and Dragon for elephants because it's like a neighbourhood watering hole).

When we discovered that we would have to drive for like 6 hours (one way!) we gave up the plan immediately (you can drive the length of Malaysia - Singapore to Thailand - in about 10 hours. Malaysians aren't into looong drives!).

Instead, we opted to do nothing and I realized just how boring The Engineer and I really are when I mentioned this to a friend today and she said:"but you guys do nothing ALL the time!". Well, my only defense is that this time, we were doing nothing in Arusha as opposed to Dar!

The weather there wasn't cold but lovely and mild (in Dar you feel like you're at the mouth of hell at 9 am and roasting in hell-fire by noon)

The entire resort was set along a coffee plantation. The main house, where the reception and dining area were located, was apparently an old farmhouse and still seemed to retain an English farmhouse ambiance with wood floors, cosy armchairs and even a fireplace (although they didn't light it).



I kept expecting someone to come up to us and say something like:"I say old' chaps, would you like a spot of tea?It's frightfully cold out"

The rooms were circular affairs with a lovely little bathroom, glass doors that opened out into a lawn with a view of the lake and even a TV. Shockingly enough, neither one of us was inclined to watch anything so we spent the time reading and listening to the birds (or in the case of The Engineer, sleeping!).








That last shot (above) is the view from out little cottage - lovely, isn't it? The bathroom had real roses in it. The Engineer and I had to touch the petals to confirm this because they were so beautiful they looked fake!


I must say, it was very restful to get away from the hell-fires of the city but we've realized since we got back that the rainy season seems to have begun and it's all dark and cloudy and rainy in Dar. The rainy season is usually not for another month or so but with this unpredictable weather, I think we can safely assume that Al Gore wasn't kidding around on An Inconvenient Truth!

At least, I get to read and drink coffee while the rain falls outside. I was getting fed-up of Dar before I went on this holiday (and so was The Engineer although he's not as vocal about it as I am!) but we're both feeling far more forgiving right now.

Despite all its drawbacks, I'm often surprised at how the place manages to redeem itself. Tanzania is like Angelina Jolie, each time you think you've had enough, she does something that makes you re-think your opinion!

Lazy T vs Diligent T

The Engineer and I have just got back from a lovely long Easter weekend holiday in Arusha and I thought I'd be a good little Blogger Bunny and post about it first thing Monday morning.

Well, it's 10 o'clock on Monday morning now and I think I was prematurely enthusiastic. An easy-peasy task like downloading photos feels like an attempt up Mt. Kilimanjaro right now!

I can hardly think straight, let alone write coherently, because I'm still woozy from doing nothing but eating and sleeping for three days.

Meanwhile, the Engineer is haunted by no such indecision because he's still fast asleep!

I think I shall sneak back to bed for a teeny-tiny snooze (sadly, in the ongoing battle between Lazy Trish and Diligent Trish, Lazy Trish has won out yet again!)

If you can't give good directions.....

The thing is many Dar Es Salaam-ians do not know the FIRST thing about giving good directions.I suppose I should attribute this to language skills (it could be their lack of English skills or maybe I should blame myself for not knowing more than 12 words of Swahili after two years in Tanz!)

Let me elaborate....

A friend is planning to throw a fairly large party and since she's only been in Dar for about a month, I offered to help her. She had already been recommended a good caterer but had no idea exactly where the restaurant was located. So, in the great tradition of the blind leading the blind, I leapt into action and offered to try and find it with her.

My knowledge of the roads in town is very close to zero but I was willing to give it a shot. What I had not compensated for was the UTTER INABILITY of some people to give directions...

We ended up spending an inordinate amount of time driving around in an area that was not remotely close to the location of the restaurant.

When we were finally in the correct vicinity of our destination, we ended up sitting in traffic for what felt like 10 hours.

Despite our spectacularly talentless direction-givers (there were not one but two people who were leading us down the garden path) and the bumper to bumper traffic we did manage to arrive in a fairly reasonable amount of time.

However, my patience (already being on the thin side) was now thinner than Nicole Richie's right thigh. When I caught sight of the restaurant manager (this was one of the talentless direction-givers) I was ready to strangle the man.

Luckily I remembered my newly-gleaned skills in tolerance. I took a deep breath and ignored him (I'm still in the practice stage- I'm supposed to take a deep breath and let it go!).

This isn't the first time I've run around like a headless chicken because somebody said turn right at the traffic lights instead of left but I certainly hope it's the last (somehow I doubt it!) After today's episode, though, I would like this down on record: "if you can't give good directions, don't give any directions at all!"

Hedonism

I came back from the Kilimanjaro Kempinski Anantara Spa a few hours ago and I STILL haven't recovered - recovered from total bliss that is!

I feel all woozy, sleepy and not in the mood to do a thing which is such a fabulous feeling! What more can a self-proclaimed diva ask for?!

This all goes back to Christmas....I received a number of gifts from my very sweet and thoughtful Engineer. Among them was this diet-busting, totally tempting tin of chocolate-covered treats which I practically finished single-handedly:


One of his other gifts was a voucher for the 'Kempinski Retreat' spa package which translates to a 2.5 hour long festival of self-indulgence comprising a foot bath, steam bath, full body scrub and massage (my skin feels softer than the bottoms on those babies in Johnson & Johnson ads). Woo hoo!



I didn't dare check the price on the spa menu when I got there in case I went into cardiac arrest and ruined the entire experience for myself.

I must say that I don't understand people who shun spas. What is wrong with sitting and doing nothing while someone else expends time and energy to get you looking and feeling good? I say nothing at all!

I do realize that there are a number of, shall we say, less than comfortable circumstances when one is at the spa. The removal of clothing is high on the list (although the good spas do provide paper underwear) and I know some people dislike being touched by strangers. My advice is: close your eyes and revel!

I'm of course referring to legitimate spas and not one of those that also offer 'extra special' massages! That's an altogether different kind of experience and no diva worth her salt would go within a 10 kilometer radius of one of those spas! Just think about what must be all over the massage table and on the towels..... eeeewwwwwww! Fortunately, the Kempsinski is a totally legal spa that deals only with 'proper' treatments so I didn't have to worry.

The whole experience put me into a "pamper me" mood and I finally did what I've been meaning to do for a long time - bought some take-away sushi from the Kempinski's excellent Oriental restaurant.

To show my appreciation to the man behind my Happy Day, I dropped off a serving of California Maki at his office, complete with wasabi, soy and pickled ginger. My only complaint was the take-away package. The gorgeous sushi was dumped unceremoniously into one of those horribly ugly foil take-away things that are so popular here in Dar. One would think that the Kempinski would attempt to be a little classier than that!

Well, now that I've had my sushi and watched an episode of Sex and the City on DVD (okay, more than one episode but don't tell anyone), I'm going to go and lie on the couch and read.

I must say, even though I've discovered that selflessness and non-attachment are the way to lasting peace....it's so hard to remember that when hedonism just feels so darn good!

images from steppestravel.co.uk and kempinski-daressalaam.com. Pic of "Temptation" cookie tin by Trish

The Art of Living

I have been attending a workshop called "The Art of Living" for the past week. It was held at the Coral Beach Hotel which just happens to be down the road from where I live (right next to the Indian Ocean - lovely!)

I must say that it was a transformative experience. Although I dread being seen as a goody-goody it would be nice to know that, at my funeral, people won't be heaving a collective sigh of relief! Besides, I constantly deal with loads of inner chatter and thought that it wouldn't hurt to explore ways to have some silence and peace in my head!

The course was designed around yoga, breathing exercises and a number of key points.

My favourite was "what you resist persists". This means that the more you close up and hold tightly onto yourself, your beliefs /your viewpoint and reject everything else, the more you'll find yourself in situations that challenge you and your frozen thinking. The more open you are the lighter your life becomes and the easier it will be to deal with what you view as wrong or bad. Judgment is never a good idea and nothing is carved in stone!

This really struck me because I tend to be much like a statue when it comes to what I think is right and wrong and who I think is good and bad. In my world it's almost all black and white and there's hardly any grey (besides, grey is SUCH a dull colour but let's not go there!)

The other major thing I learned is that, at our very core, we are all the same. We all want love and happiness. This might sound pretty obvious but I tend to forget all about it when the cashier at Shrijee's is taking 100 years to ring up the bill or when the askari is busy chatting and ignores me when I'm waiting at the gate!

It wasn't all angel's wings and clouds, though. There were times when I thought the processes we were going through, like dancing with our eyes closed and laughing for no reason at all, was an exercise in silliness. But I noticed that once I stopped thinking, it was actually very liberating to laugh for no reason and dance blindly. The constant worry about what other people might think eventually stopped and it felt like I was suddenly free of a nagging headache.....

I think the best advertisement for this course is my teacher - she's close to 40 but looks about 20 (who needs Dr.90210 when you can laugh and breathe your way to unlined skin and a brighter smile!). The attendees were from vastly different cultures/backgrounds/ages but by the end of it, we all felt a strange sense of one-ness. It was refreshing.

I'm not saying that I'm going to be an angel after this (I had a little tiff with The Engineer in the past week but I didn't tell the teacher!). I don't think I can stop being a Judgey Judgerson anytime soon or stop having concrete opinions (I'll have to shut down this blog if I ever run out of those!) but at least I'm more aware of my own thoughts, why I have them and the effect of these thoughts out in the world.

Alright, if you've read this far and been rolling your eyes, I get it -it's time to stop! I hate a goody-goody as much as the next guy so no more preaching but before I go back to my regular complain-ey entries, allow me this last bit of goody-goodyness. This is a little prayer we learned which I just have to share:

"Lead us from untruth to truth,
From darkness into light,
From mortality to immortality,
Peace, peace, peace"

Houskeeper Saga - Part Mbili

Now, I just don't believe in lending anybody any money (unless it's an ABSOLUTE emergency and we're blood relatives or it's a friend who has donated me a kidney or something). I have witnessed far too many relationships go down the drain to feel comfortable about borrowing or lending money and I'd really rather not jeopardize any of my relationships/friendships - they matter too much to me. Besides, my granny always told me "never a borrower or a lender be!" Anyway, in line with this motto, I told Sofia no dice. That didn't stop her, unfortunately.

She tried asking me again about 6 weeks later and 4 weeks after that. Persistence does pay because I finally caved, against my better judgment, and lent her some cash. I just couldn't hold out anymore when she explained the reason in a letter written in English by a friend - Sofia's England is not so the good! She needed the money to pay the rent or she was going to lose her home.

Despite abandoning my cherished principles on money, I felt very benevolent and helpful when the I finally did lend it to her (with The Engineer's consent, of course). Little did I know that I would scarcely have time to feel pleased about helping someone because she came back to me the following week and INSISTED that I take her on 5 times a week instead of the usual 3. I had to give it to her - she always had reasons for everything. This time, it was because of the new minimum wage introduced by the Tanzanian President and the only way to justify her increase in salary was to increase the number of days she worked.

Something told me not to do it but I agreed to a 5-day schedule and of course the corresponding increase in wages. I had to literally scrape around for things to fill her time with (it's only The Engineer and me, no dirty kiddie clothes and toys strewn about).

I was already feeling a bit manipulated at this stage but what she did next really pushed me over the edge. After everything - the increase in wages, the lending of the money - she stopped turning up regularly!

I felt like I was being taken for a ride - which I undoubtedly was. Her excuses were lame ; a stomach ache here, a headache there and the last one was that her doctor had advised her to stay home - goodness knows what for! She seemed perfectly fine to me.

The last excuse she pulled was rather dramatic. She came in in the morning, ate her breakfast and went about her work. After about an hour, I suddenly realized that I hadn't seen her fand looked around only to find her on the floor, clutching her stomach. The minute I said she could go home, she stood right up and marched right out the door! That was the moment it dawned upon me that she must think that I am a teeny bit of an idiot!

Much as I hated it, I decided to let her go. An employee who is bad at what they do is one thing but I didn't want to deal with someone who was good at their job but whose attitude was not.

So, that's how I ended up having to train a new girl, Imelda (she's really young). Her England is even MORE not the good compared to Sofia. Imelda is eager enough but not as good at her job as Sofia was. The good news is that she hasn't asked me for money or rolled about on the floor clutching her tummy - not yet anyway. So wish me luck!

Housekeeper Saga : Part Moja

When I first arrived here a couple of years ago, I was anti-housekeeper. By this I don't mean that I wanted to annihilate all housekeepers in Tanzania but rather that personally, I did not feel I needed one.

The reasoning behind my thinking was that I was freshly free from my office job ( I had resigned about 2 weeks prior to arriving in Dar),I didn't know a soul except for The Engineer and I was miserable, miserable, miserable! This was largely due to my gut-wrenching homesickness but the other reason was because I'm a diva (and proud of it!).

All Dar had to offer (two years ago anyway but not much has changed!) is unstable electrical power, head-splitting hot sunshine, the beach and un-tarred roads - hardly NY Fifth Avenue. The only shoes that are readily available here are leather thongs (albeit pretty ones) and weird platforms (which look like they're targeted at the hooker portion of the population!) But I digress....

I truly believed at that time that housework would keep me sane. I was mostly housebound with nothing but time on my hands to sink deeper and deeper into my homesickness so I didn't see housework as the drudgery it is!

Fortunately for me, Girlfriend (the person who became my best friend in Africa) and I hit it off soon after and the more people I met the less time I was inclined to spend with a broom and duster.

It was Girlfriend who finally made me employ domestic help ( I think she got tired of listening to me say that I couldn't accompany her somewhere because I hadn't mopped the floor yet that week!). Anyway, that was how I ended up with help at home.

Initially, I freaked out at the idea of someone 'lurking' about in my home. Anyone who knows me knows that I positively treasure my privacy and the idea of a housekeeper in the background did not appeal. However, much to my own surprise, I changed my mind fairly quickly. The dishes seemed to 'miraculously' get clean, the floor was swept and mopped and best of all - the clothes were ironed!

As time wore on, I found myself relying more and more on my housekeeper but just as I thought we'd established a good relationship, she began to hassle me for money.....(to be continued)

Training Day

The new domestic 'reported for duty' today. This is probably going to sound so spoiled but I feel terribly exhausted after her 'training day'....too exhausted to go into the details right now....

Promise to elaborate in my next entry....