WARNING: dont read this is you hate hearing about other people's dreams!

Tuesday, Oct 28th ****Arusha uncle mikes house

No power, no water, no people. at least I've got my laptop battery charged. I was just having a four hour midday "I have nothing to do and there's no food so I may as well just sleep the day away" nap. I kept waking up every half hour or so, but finding that my situation hadn't changed, gave into the bliss of unconsciousness. I usually prefer it to consciousness anyway.

Whoops!! A flurry of activity! The house girl, Dada Rose just burst in my room speaking very excitedly and after slowing her down I figured out that she was telling me that it was raining, fairly heavily, on my freshly washed clothes from which my hands are still complaining. All the clothes are strewn around the dining room now, drying inside. Yup, pretty exciting.

So back to talking about my nap, rather my dreams which were the point of the story, I dreamt I had met my mother at a ferry terminal (which happens often as we live on an island) where she whisked me away to her best friend Debbie's tropical bungalow on a secluded island at a private resort. (Huh?) I was in my swimsuit, baking hot, trying to put away my things quickly so I could hit the beautiful, refreshing ocean when a waitress came in to take our lunch order. I really, I mean really wanted a margarita. In fact the thought of drinking an icy blended margarita has haunted me since I set foot in TZ. I couldn't afford one, though, and Debbie ordered sandwiches for lunch which meant going to the beach had to wait. I woke up then and noticed that reality hadn't actually changed. I looked around the room and found out I was hot because the power was cut and the fan went off . (Daily power outages here are usually preplanned by the "powers" that be rather than a mistake or act of God like at home.) I then considered the dirty walls, the barred windows, the smell of burning garbage and my general cabin fever and decided that sandwiches and the beach were a much better alternative so I went back to sleep. I remember talking to a lesbian who was also staying with us in our bungalow and her young daughter who were asking me about my time in Africa. I got really confused because I wasn't sure that I had left Africa. I had seen my mother though, which meant I had probably come home, and was upset to think that I had been yanked back before I had done everything I was supposed to do here, let alone have the heartfelt goodbyes. I decided to go for a walk and, helping Debbie with the house keeping, I took with me 6 or 7 flats of eggs, carrying them in a box on my head toward the main road. (Don’t ask- its a dream, remember?) I was also carrying an empty bottle of water which I kept trying to drink from but was constantly disappointed. At some point a small black boy came up to me and took my useless water bottle, said thanks and walked the other way. I tried to stop him, as I was sure there was still something in there that I could drink and in my chase, dropped the eggs. It was all downhill from there. Half the eggs were broken and I was trying to save the precious yolks in paper bags and broken shells while finding my way back to Debbie's place. I was sure I could fix things, if I could only get somewhere in time where I could cook the broken eggs and come up with a good story. Something about a car accident maybe. Every step seemed to bring more disaster, more broken eggs and less sense of direction. In my dream I was totally lost, surrounded by mess and guilt, with people trying to help me but not knowing how. I woke up drenched in sweat and felt like my head weighed about fifty pounds. Somehow I had wrapped myself up in Issack's heavy camping blanket and was woozy from dehydration. I got up, found some drinking water and realized that this reality was now better than my dream world. Funny that.

So now that I'm fully awake and alive and back in Africa I guess I'll go back to studying Swahili until the family comes back from town. I might go home to Moshi tonight - I want to be careful not to wear out my welcome here and I think I've sucked this place dry of entertainment. The thought of going back to Msasani doesn't excite me, though. In fact it’s rather dreary. I guess I'm in a slump. Sargeant's curve strikes again. Not much to complain about though, other than everything.

Oh! I almost forgot a very important ray of sunshine I got two days ago. I was playing house, taking care of Issack's son for a couple of days and got a chance to cook a meal by myself. It felt so good! I've been dying to cook for a couple of weeks now, but as I don't have a kitchen, it’s kind of difficult. Of course I could ask Dada Asia to use her kitchen but I don't want to offend her by cooking my own food because she feeds me every day. So this kitchen has..... wait for it.... a fridge! A gas range!! An electric oven!!!! holy crap, my mind was spinning. Unfortunately there was no food. Well, no food visible to the untrained eye, that is. An old boyfriend of mine said that I could make a hearty meal out of mustard and pickles when I put my mind to it and I pride myself as being the "something from nothing cook" amongst my friends. Ok... so there certainly was food but its not like I could say "I want to cook spaghetti bolognese" (which is what I actually was hoping to make) and go for it. The closest supermarket is 5km away and relying on the local stands for any one particular ingredient is setting yourself up for disappointment. Long story short I shat out a (what I considered) wicked meal of Spanish rice, eland meatballs, and roasted potatoes with peanut curry sauce. Issack's son Kelven didn’t think much of it, but the rest of us wolfed it down. Yay!