Late 30s

In what is possibly the most ‘late 30s’ thing that can happen, I have hurt my neck by slipping off a six inch kerb, and jarring it. Human bodies are not built for this world.

Today I experienced my first Dar es Salaam rainstorms. One was heavy but lasted only for five minutes, and the next was longer and filled any available hole in the road. I had almost gone to Mbudya Island just north of the city, but the neck had stopped play. This was useful in retrospect as rainstorms on a small unsheltered island would have been wet, and the quality snorkelling would have been all churned up. Mbudya will wait.

Instead I gingerly walked down to a nearby café which will likely become a hangout spot. This suburb of Mikocheni is where the office is, and is cheaper than others, but isn’t too endearing with streets of slippery sand, open drains of grey water and imposing shops bearing names like World of Generators.

Maintaining my head in an upright position, I met up with human-elephant conflict researcher Maria in the evening. She once worked in the Democratic Republic of Congo, and like everyone I’ve met with history there, she had an assortment of tales about cannibals, kidnappings and assassinations. It makes my work in South Sudan sound like a breeze. Remind me not to work in DRC if I ever get any ideas.