The buses are all in some state of disrepair but run fairly well. We arrived the edges of the CBD and everyone was told to get out and join another bus, there were not enough people on this bus to complete the journey... Ok, so the 15 people left trundled off and lined up to board the one in front (FOC this time!). On boarding some Jamaa (slang for bloke) smelling of pombe (booze) tries to board behind me in a very pushy way - either this guy had some serious affection for me or he was up to something. Looking down, sure enough, my backpack waist belt pocket was open and my PDA was exposed ready to go! The little bugger. This is where speaking swahili ready comes in handy and after calling his relatives some not to be mentioned here slang for a bodypart, and then pushed him away calling him a 'mwizi' / thief. well that's all you need in a crowd and hey presto the chap received a number of smacks to his head. The conductor even grabbed him and asked me to alight to place some choice blows in all the wrong places... I was rather tempted. But knowing that these things can really go nasty - thing burning tyres, I just said leave him and off we went.
Near the old post office I headed West towards the police station and railway. A pretty quite and unassuming railway there was none the less one person at the ticket office.
'treni inaenda kigoma kesho?'
'ndio'
'naomba tiketi ya first class thafedhali'
'iko ya sekundi tuu'
'sawa'.
In other words I purchased a second class ticket to Kigoma as first class was full. 44,000 tsh via Tabora.
And then a lady turned up behind the ticket reservations person and asked if I wanted an mchumbani for the journey. I said not this time, but thanks! I think she was joking. Mchumbani, in polite parlance, would be some company for the journey. Like a temporary wife..
Next up - the Dar Hash! The running club with a drinking problem, not the 'herb'..
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