Daladalas and "Squeezers"

Today was a really great day.

I’ve been pretty awesome at managing the daladala (local bus) system on my own. I can only describe it as the most chaotic yet surprisingly easy and efficient transit system I’ve ever experienced. They have a guy that hollars out the destination of the bus, which is also printed on the outside, and as the bust rolls by (sometimes barely stopping) you just jump on. Eventually the money collector comes around, clinking the coins in his hand, and you pass over a few hundred shillings. The process of scrambling to make it on a bus is rather exhilarating.

The daladalas are generally packed so if you can get a seat you take it. If not, you’re left standing which can get fairly interesting as you squish together and get jostled about. Sometimes you can’t even hold on to anything. The first time this happened to me I thought…”here we go, I’m going to just fall over.” But the brilliant thing about being packed in the bus like sardines in a can is that no one can fall. You just sort of sway as one giant being. So I braced myself a bit with my hands against the roof and just swayed with the crowd.

Letting people off the bus can be a bit tricky…it involves a lot of maneuvering and pushing past bodies but somehow it works. One time I found myself in the last seat by the window, where my knees had been crushed by the slanted seat in front of me for about an hour. I had been planning my escape route the entire time and decided the best way to get out would be to just jump out the window. It seemed wholly reasonable to me, I figured I could fit through and the entire bus would get a good laugh. Fortunately…or unfortunately, I’m not sure…the bus emptied out by the time we reached my stop and not only did my knees experience extreme relief but I was able to casually walk off the bus.

Today’s experience was particularly hilarious because amidst all this, I met a sweet talker. Not only did he dub me his “gorjus (gorgeous) Baby” within the first half hour of talking but he called me a “squeezer.” Perhaps I should explain. It’s amazing how quickly a conversation can digress from discussions of Canada and schools to “I love you, baby.” I’m not oblivious to how the African sweet talking of Mzungus works and I figured his English was good enough to let him know it...so I told him he’s a player. Of course he pretended to be shocked by this, wondering how I could say (or know) such a thing. The whole encounter was a pretty funny and harmless. When we parted ways he said to his friend “she’s a squeezer.” I had to ask Alex what this means, which he told me is slang for a girl who won’t reciprocate affections. Okay so I didn’t fall in love with him in minutes…I’m also not looking to get an easy lay or a ticket to Canada! Hahaha…

It’s amazing how easy it is to pick up in Tanzania if you’re a foreigner. You have to give these guys credit for being so forward…I guess you never know when you’ll get lucky.

Enough from me…how are you?