Geckos, Graduation and a good fundi

“Yes I know you live here too and I’m not jumpy, but if you come out of a room where I wasn’t expecting you, it makes me scream.”

Caroline has not, it has to be said, ever come to terms with the wildlife that she fears she’s sharing her house with. I’ve told her she needs to tackle not just the creepy crawlies but the fear of creepy crawlies. There are perhaps three or four geckos in the house at any one time, but still Caroline screams. As we prepare to leave we need to decide whether, when we return in January, we will return to this house or find another. The frog, sadly, is not persuading Caroline of this particular location. He’s black with red stripes and seems to wait until she’s in the shower to pop his head up. I rarely get to see him.

We are preparing to leave and suddenly the things we will miss about the place are becoming apparent. High on the list are the students. Our recent visits to Msimbati and Mikindani, followed by the splendid graduation ceremony have shown us what a remarkably resilient, generous and good-spirited group of people they are. They danced all night on Wednesday and the next morning at 7.00am were there again at roll call, in spotless uniforms, preparing for revision as exams start tomorrow.

Graduation saw the whole campus come to life. It was as though the place had been sleeping and waiting for this day. Bunting was strung from the main teaching block, whitewash was used on the rough stones round the flower beds and every hedge in sight was trimmed to within an inch of its life. In the evening, staff moved to the library for their feast. Lucia had confided me earlier that she was hoping to sell the college one of her goats, but in the event Francis, sourced the goat from the market. Chips, rice, pilau rice, banana, goat, pumpkin, chicken and water melon – all on the same plate. The party went on until very late and Avit was at his most patronising when he told me the next morning how well I danced. One important lesson I learned from the day was not to judge too quickly, especially when I speak so little Kiswahili. The warmth and respect offered to tutors from students surprised me. There was no doubting the huge esteem in which Maskat is held. When his name was read out during the ceremony the cheer from the entire student body raised the roof.

Our comfortable lives have been upset considerably with the news that workers at the Southern Cross have come out on strike. It’s unclear just what the root cause of the strike is, but suspicion of theft, a harsher attitude from management and some unreasonable behaviour on both sides, has resulted in an unofficial strike and the complete workforce being suspended. Asking for details of the action from the new Swedish training manager, revealed a determination to change things which suggest that hotel management is not as community focused as the hotel’s entry in Lonely Planet suggests. This is a hotel which a tiny fraction of Mtwara’s residents and visitors can afford, which claims to be run in the interests of community development and yet its workforce feel exploited and it is the wazungu customers who benefit most from this beautiful terrace on the Indian Ocean. The quality of service is perhaps the most truculent we’ve found in Mtwara, but whether that is the fault of management or staff, we are not sure.

We will be returning in January to start another two-year placement and we have decided to return to this house rather than rent another. Given the traumas we’ve gone through with noise and rodents, that might seem surprising, but in recent weeks, the sense of belonging here has started to permeate and to rent a smart house in Shangani would just place us alongside other wazungu and not earn any respect from colleagues here. Besides, for the money we’d spend in rent, we can invest in improvements to this house; in tiles for the kitchen and bathroom and a cooker and fridge. We’re even going to build a small patio outside so we can enjoy the evenings more. We’ll need to find a good fundi because most of the bathrooms I’ve seen are coated in thick clumps of grout and plumbing that isn’t connected too well, but I have Mr Mkongu on the case and we are to meet one or two craftsmen next week.

We’ve started a list of the small items we will want to bring with us next time – things that add significantly to the quality of life, weigh and cost relatively little but are hard to obtain here. We will not need to bring clothes or cooking utensils, but we will bring witch-hazel, calendula and picture hooks. We won’t need walking boots or paper or bedding; but we will bring Johnsons baby powder, good razors and IKEA light shades. Lastly, I will try very hard to remember a cover for the drain to keep froggy in his own place.