Days 55-57: The Cheese Cake Conundrum (My Second Adventure)

          As you all know, one of the things I miss most since I've come to Tanzania is Root Beer.  It is the best drink on the face of this planet, and I could probably go on for several paragraphs about it (in fact, I have).  That is my favorite drink.  One of my favorite deserts (there's just too many options out there to narrow it down to one) is cheese cake.  I'm glad to say that they do have cheese cake in Tanzania.  I, however, have yet to have any...
          The day dawned bright and early, like every day in Tanzania.  My plans were simple: go preaching door-to-door till noon, then get some cheese cake.  And like all well laid plans of mice an men, it was doomed to failure before the day began.  As you may remember I had been helping my cousin Faraja learn how to use a computer so that she could apply for colleges in the US.  Obviously as single computer lesson would not be sufficient, and I had promised to go again with her to the internet café.  And since Baba wanted to leave for Moshi on Sunday and then from there to Morogoro the next day to visit my Mjomba Ndelilio. Which meant that I had to help Faraja today.
          No biggie, right?  Plenty of time to go preaching, eat cheese cake, and still get to spend a few hours at the café.  And if this were America, you would be right.  However, as you may have noticed, things always take longer in Tanzania.  Transportation is highly unreliable, especially if you need to get from point A to point B quickly.  So Baba vetoed my schedule, deciding that I would just take Faraja to the café in the morning and spend most of the day there with her.
          Okay, so not as much fun, but at least I would be productive, right?  Ha!  Guess again.  You see Jovin, Faraja's son and my lil' nephew was sick again, and Faraja wanted to take him to the hospital.  Alrighty then, we go to the hospital first, then the café.  Faraja just needed a little time to dash home and get Jovin ready.  I'm sure you can see where this is leading too...
          Three hours later (a little after noon when I would have finished service) Faraja is finally ready to go.  So we go to the hospital, where I sit around for two hours (not eating cheese cake) while we waited for the test results to come back.  Firstly I should probably mention something about naming conventions in Tanzania.  Tanzanian's like to be impressive.  So you will never eat at a restaurant while in Tanzania.  You will always eat at a Hotel.  Said hotel may or may not have rooms for the night, but so long as it has food, it's a hotel.  Similarly, anywhere a doctor works is automatically called a hospital, even it if's just a small clinic like the one we were at.
          There was a map of the world in the "hospital", and I was rather pleased to note that it had Seattle labeled on it.  I measured the distance from my home in the US to here and found the distance to be surprisingly shorter than I had expected.  Did you know it is only one hand length (thumb to pointer finger) from Arusha to the Pacific North West?  And here I had mistakenly thought it was like thousands of miles away.  I think I'll just walk home, according to the map, the Atlantic should be jump-able, easily.  The test results finally came in, showing that Jovin had malaria (again), and they gave him some medicine for it.  From there Faraja and Jovin went to the internet café.  Only I didn't go with them.
          Why?  Because Baba had remembered a friend of his in Usa river that he desperately wanted to get in contact with.  So I rode with him and Ino to Usa to meet his friend, who, unfortunately, wasn't there.  No problem though.  This is Tanzania.  No one calls ahead to make appointments with people so they'll know they're there.  Only Wazungu do that sort of thing.  Leaving Baba's cell phone number, we drove back the 18 some kilometers (12 miles) to Tengeru, where I met Faraja at the café and helped her look for more colleges.
          So that pretty much shot any plans of having cheese cake, right?  Ha!  I am an Urio, of the great Athanasio, and we Urios do not give up that easily!
          The next day was Sunday, the day we were supposed to be leaving for Moshi.  However, last Saturday, while we had been running all around, Shangazi Eli-aremisa had gotten out the washing machine and dryer 9a rare treat, they have to use a gas generator to power the machine, so they rarely use it) to wash all our clothes and have them ready when we left.  Fortunately, I mean, unfortunately, very, very unfortunately, the dryer refused to work, so all our clothes were still wet.  Which meant that, after meeting (worship) I go preaching and then get cheese cake, like I had planned to on Saturday.
          At the meeting I finalized my plans.  I would be going out with Mjomba John Nanyaro and my cousin Upendo, and then get cheese cake.  Now another Brother at the meeting needed Upendo to translate something for him into Kiswahili.  So, after loading all our stuff into Mjomba John's car, we walked with the brother the short distance to his house to get the file.  From there it was a quick jog out to the road to wait for John to pick us up.
          I want you to take a wild guess now at what happened next.  No, we were not kidnapped by aliens.  John never showed up.  We waited.  And we waited.  And we waited.  Finally we walked back to the hall.  Sure enough, no one was there.  Dear, sweet, Mjomba John had gone out preaching and totally forgot about his daughter and nephew.  Furthermore, all our money, and Upendo's phone, was in his car.  Which meant that we would have to walk the six kilometers to Mjomba John's place and wait for him there.
          We passed the cheese cake store on the way.

          Cheese cake, cheese cake, everywhere, and all our tongues did shrink.
          Cheese cake, cheese cake, everywhere, and not a bite to eat.

          By the time Mjomba John finally got home, it was time for me to go home.  But was I beaten?  No!  For we weren't leaving Arusha till the afternoon the next day.  Plenty of time for me to get my cheese cake!  In the mean time, I went with Baba to Usa river to visit Dr. Samuel, the brother of Mjomba Wilfred, Shangazi Eli-aremisa's husband.  He has three children, a son, Amusi (which means "Peace"), who's about my age, and two preteen daughters.  The road to his place was actually blocked by rubble, and we had to get in through the church he lives next door to.   Tanzania is a really, really interesting place.  You should definitely see it some time.
          The next morning dawned bright and early, like all mornings in Tanzania.  I made plans to meet with my cousin Upendo in Arusha, go get cheese cake, and then go to the New Arusha Hotel, where I had some left over internet time.  Baba, mean while, wanted to go visit his friend in Usa river, as he was home that day.  I suggested that I first get dropped off in Arusha, and then Baba could go in the opposite direction to Usa river.  Baba mean while, didn't want to go to Arusha, then go to Usa, and then come all the way back to Arusha to get on the bus.  He wanted me to go with him.
          Now, just in case any of you have forgotten, this is the self same man who refused to let me go out in service on Saturday and then go get cheese cake, why?  Because things always take longer in Tanzania.  Transportation is highly unreliable, especially if you need to get from point A to point B quickly.  I argued to no avail, and in the end Baba went to Usa while I stayed at Shangazi Eli-aremisa's to wait for him.  Five hours later he finally came back, just in time for us to rush to the bus station and catch our express bus to Moshi.
          I still have not gotten to eat any cheese cake.


E’ya! - Tate


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