Where am I?
Yesterday morning I woke up early to go for a run. It was a
beautiful, cool morning on the mountain, making it nearly perfect! We didn’t
anticipate going far, just a nice jog around the town. We began going up the hill behind the center we are staying at, assuming that eventually the road would just wind its way back downhill…but
a few random turns later and our location was TBD. So, our clever selves
decided we should probably just ask how to get back to the center. The little
Swahili I know didn’t get me much beyond “hello, how are you?” and thankfully
the person I was with knew more than that! So we were pointed in the “right”
direction and continued on our run. Well when that road ran out we figured we
better stop and ask again. And then again. And again. About our fifth attempt at
directions back to the center, the woman laughed at us and clarified that we actually meant the center in town. Then she
insisted we were too far to run back and paid for a dala-dala ride to get us
back. What a wonderful offer! Apparently we were a little farther out than we
anticipated, or realized for that matter. And as wonderful and approachable and willing to help as the people here are, I learned that sometimes people can confidently, yet unintentionally, point you in the wrong direction. We spent a good ten minutes on this crazy
full bus in our sweaty runny clothes (Tanzanians sure know how to fit a whole
lot of people in one tiny space). Thankfully, we made it back to the center
only a half an hour late for breakfast, and we still had our fruit, eggs, and chai. Next time I go for a run, I’ll be sure
to practice my Swahili directions first…just in case!
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