26.08.2011 Another Bus Ride

26.08.2011 Another Bus Ride. 

Kelvin and I left for Mwanza on the 26^th at 0530.  His cousin was getting married, and asked me to accompany him.  He called a tax driver to pick me up, and the tax driver was drunk.  It was terrifying.  He was yelling in my face, and hiccupping. Kelvin didn’t live that far away, but I just wanted to get out of the car.  I thought that might be even more dangerous, so I yelled, “Pole, pole!” to him several times (slowly, slowly).  He drove slowly, but was still swerving quite a bit.  After we got to Kelvin’s place, I made him call a new tax, and refused to get back into that one.  It almost made us late for the bus, but at least we weren’t dead. The bus ride was quite uneventful.  I slept with my head on his shoulder for the first few hours, but then we reached a point of which the roads were no longer paved and very bumpy.  We talked the rest of the way.  Kelvin speaks English very well, but sometimes I think his understanding is less.  Actually, I think he’s a man and doesn’t listen well all the time, only it’s more noticeable because English isn’t his first language.  I will ask him a question, and his answer will have to do with the topic, but not be the answer.  I think he hears four or five main words, and fills in the blanks on his own.  I have to stop him, tell him he isn’t listening to me, and then rephrase or restate the question.  On the other hand, he always makes sure I am comfortable and happy.  He puts so much effort into my well-being.  Usually, I don’t let people do that, but with him, it feels comfortable.  He also has the courage to be himself and be free.  That is something I’ve always admired in people.   Besides the lack of listening (or understanding), he is 95% perfect. 

We ate lunch on the bus.  We had sambosas, boiled eggs, mandozi, and peanuts. We still had six hours to go, and I wished we would have been able to get out and stretch for a bit.  Ah well.  We arrived in Mwanza at about 1900, and his aunt and uncle welcomed us warmly.  Too warmly.  His aunt told me our kids would be adorable.  They took us to our hotel to drop off our stuff, and then out to eat.  I had barbecued catfish.  It was so delicious! Mwanza is right on Lake Victoria, so fish is a staple in their community.  After eating little more than coocoo (chicken), chips (fries), potatoes, rice, beans, and chapati, fish tasted so good.  They served the whole fish, head, bones, and all.  I had to ask Kelvin how to eat it.  You just pick the fish meat off the bones with your hands.  I now completely understand why people choke on fish bones.  They are small and sharp!  

After dinner, we returned to the hotel and went to sleep.  The wedding was the next day, and I was exhausted from the travels.  Not only was the room only 15,000tsh, the bed was super comfortable and I got a hot shower!  I’m living the life here in Mwanza!