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The Boys

A bridge to friendship

As the bus pulled into the hotel parking lot, young men came running from all directions; their arms loaded with souvenirs they hoped to sell.

“The Boys” provided my earliest interactions with the locals. Whereas an American’s “personal space” is about 3 feet, a Tanzanian’s personal space is closer to 6 inches. That, combined with their persistent sales pitches and rolling accents, intimidated many in our group. Also, they were clueless about the bargaining game. Me… cheap Scot that I am… was ready to dicker! Soon group members would seek me out when a trinket they wanted appeared among the offerings laid out for our shopping pleasure. They would tell me what they wanted, the top price they were willing to pay and handed me the money. From there, well… that’s where it got fun. Bargaining is expected. Want that carved wood zebra? “20,000 shillings! Just for you mama!” (BTW, “mama” is a term of respect, nothing to be offended by!) My reply, “Are you crazy?! 500 shillings!” To which would be responded to with a horrified, “But mama, I have to make a living – 10,000 shillings”. And my comeback of “Yes, but you’re not going to make a month’s living from that one zebra… beside, it’s stripes are crooked – 1,000 shillings”. And so it would go until we reached a price of 3000 shillings. The deal was sealed with a 4-way handshake and a big smile. Both sides were happy with the bargain.

Each day the displays laid out by The Boys grew larger. I spent most of my “down time” out talking with them. One of the subjects of conversation was about their merchandise. They wanted to know what American liked, as early on there was little interest in buying what they had to offer. I explained our group was very conservative. The “naked” statues were not going to be bought, but perhaps something religious and some wildlife carvings would be more to their tastes. The next day there were a bevy of crucifixes lined up. I told them, good try but wrong items… the group was not Catholic. So on the 4th day my new “students” eagerly waited for me to finish breakfast to show me what they had… beautiful carvings of nativity scenes and a stunning “Last Supper”.

BINGO! They had it!

(BTW, that Last Supper came home with me!)

I like to interact in a country foreign to me by shopping. What better way to get a feel for an area than to wander thru the stores; looking at what is the same as home and what is different. A bar of soap purchased here, a couple tomatoes from there, a book, a pair of flip-flops and a candy bar. Each opens an opportunity to interact and learn.

One thing I bought many of were the beautiful “kangas” worn by the local women. It’s basically a piece of cotton material with a bright pattern, about 2 feet wide by 4 feet long. Each kanga is piece is 2 of the same pattern (one for a skirt and one for a wrap). They cost at the time 2500 shillings each (about $3 USD). They make GREAT gifts. Also there are kitangas, which is a larger piece of fabric in one continuous pattern. It’s about 4 yards of material and cost 3500 shillings.

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Mr. V and Me

Mr. Viangi

One of my shopping adventures was in the shop of Mr. Viangi. There was a whole wall of kangas and kitangas to chose from. And chose I did! I had a lot of people back home to bring souvenirs to. It was here that I first came across the kitanga. As I looked at the large piece of fabric, Mr. Viangi enthusiastically wrapped me from head to toe in it while explaining that kitanga were “for big mamas like you and my wife!” The hour spent in his store included sharing soda pops, and trading a cap for a scarf.