Two days ago, I am walking when a young man greets me and asks “How is it?”. What? I am thinking. Life? Tanzania? The Dollar? I just answered it is fine and then he says “I love you!”. What an ordinary person would answer? “Thank you!” – probably. “I love you too!”- maybe. Or even a simple “OK”. What did I answer? The first thing that came to my mind – No, you do not! It is the truth! He does not love me. I am not making a big deal here. It is just I am trying to understand why they (he was not the first African person who told me that) keep saying that? What is the meaning? They think they love all white people? They do not. Actually I think that deep inside they don’t even like white people at all. But that is just my opinion.
There is water everywhere! The situation of the streets in this area is devastated. With all this big rain, which had coming without stop, they can be even worse. You try to go in some direction: the road is blocked because a big pond has it formed in the middle of the road. Then you try to go in the opposite direction: the same.
A few minutes after the “love” declaration, I reach one of this pond places. Some locals had built a simple, and quite danger, wood stairs to cross the water. I though it could be risk but decided to give it a shot. When I am about to cross, a small boy makes a sign with his fingers: the number two. I have to pay? – I ask. He makes an affirmative sign with his head. I do not even ask if it was two hundred or two thousand Tanzanian Xelins, I just laugh, turn around and leave. I hear them call me back or something but I was already decided to not cross and just keep moving.
