June 28: A slow day in Karatu

Today was my day to stay in the hostel while Doug took Annie out with the rest of the team. My to do list was to check whether the data sheets we had matched the data sheets Hillary had (they did), install the internet dongle on my netbook (it installed but didn’t really work anyway), purify water using the SteriPEN I splurged on at REI, get more toilet paper from the front desk, and take out the trash. With the exception of the internet dongle, I did all of this before Annie and Doug left. I had to wait for Doug to leave and be done with his laptop before I could grab the dongle (heh). The rest of the day was spent doing extremely little. I tried to go to the post office in Karatu, but they were closed for an indefinite period around lunch.

I’ll use today’s entry to briefly tell you about Karatu. Even I can be brief about Karatu because there is really not that much to Karatu.



(photos lifted from Annie, who was smart enough to take a photo of the place we were living for three weeks)

Don’t let the fact that this is a paved road fool you—this is both Karatu’s only paved road and only road, period. It’s paved because if you drive for another 25 minutes, you’re at the gate to the Ngorongoro Conservation Area, and you need to drive this road to get to both Ngorongoro Crater and the Serengeti. Karatu is a dusty, dusty one-road red dusty town. Off to either sides are shambas and other communities.

Karatu has the aforementioned post office, banks (mainly for people passing through on safaris), and a couple tiny souvenir stands, one of which is named “Obama” and the other has a sign naming it “Hillary Cington,” with the “g” crossed out. When Annie and I wander around without Doug, we tend to be accosted by the souvenir people. Every conversation we have starts off something like this:

Them: Hello! Mzungu! What is your name?
Me & Annie: Hi...we’re Pasha and Annie.
Them: Oh! Where are you from?
Me & Annie: The United States.
Them: Oh! Obamaland!!

There are a few little restaurants, all of which have plastic Coca-Cola chairs, plastic Coca-Cola tables, and their signs are on Coca-Cola boards. They all have flies, too. They all serve beef (chicken on a good day) with rice, ugali (staple food in Tanzania), or chips (French fries), but if you order the chips, be prepared to wait a long time.

Doug, Annie, and I have made ourselves regulars at the “Paradise Café,” which is, unsurprisingly given the nature of Karatu, right down the road from our hostel. It’s open-air and often has traveling socks salespeople wandering through it, which is a little different. The Paradise has a menu with probably about 20 items on it, but don’t be fooled. Doug asks what’s actually available and ready, and the answer is inevitably “rice, ugali, chips in 15 minutes (lies), roasti, and chicken,” although sometimes either of the meats are not available. Usually Doug orders first (“rice and roasti” = rice and beef + a Fanta passion*) and then Annie and I get the exact same thing. Neither Annie or I are accustomed to eating that much beef, but it all works out because I have befriended the cutiest adorablefaced kitten that appears to lurk around the Paradise at all times. She eats all the beef that I carefully feed her under the table and is just the cutest thing. I feel like the ability to befriend random cats makes my $606 worth of rabies shots totally worthwhile.

*it must be said that Tanzania has an amazing variety of Fanta flavors.