At the school bus-stop this morning, I noticed that the sky looked rather ominous, so I made princess run back indoors and get her sweater. She usually carries it in her bag, just in case, but today is school-party day, so her bag is packed solid with junk food. No room for caution.

Five seconds after she came out it started drizzling, so I’m glad I made her get the sweater. Of course I had to go and get one as well. I picked an umbrella and my blue khanga and headed to work.

Two problems. One, the rain – which had now gone three degrees past drizzle – was the diagonal kind, so the umbrella did zero work. And I was walking ‘away’ from the rain, so my front stayed dry while my back got soaked through.

Problem number 2, my blue khanga, apparently, sheds colour. Now I know. I got to work to do the perfunctory mirror therapy to notice the back of my white skirt was now a sickening shade of blue. Oooookaaaaay.

Well there’s nothing for it but to turn the skirt so that the wet blue patches are on the front [sitting on it will turn the seats blue as well] and hope a sudsy soak will clear the stains. Coz I really like this skirt. It’s shortish and flirtish, and the only truly girly skirt that I own.

It was a birthday present from a boy I no longer like, but you don’t kick a gift-skirt in the hem, and it’s got such pretty embroidery :). It came with a gorgeous spanish-ish gypsy-ish top in burgundy-black, which is, again, the only truly girly top I own. I no longer like the boy, but I still adore his taste.

My pal W says I have a fetish for geeks. Guilty as charged. I’m going to marry me a geek with green eyes. Real green eyes, not the metaphoric kind. Contacts will do – except I like my geeks with glasses, so probably not. But geeks are smart – I’m sure he can find some way to fix the iris. Did I mention how much Big Bang Theory rocks? I didn’t? Well, Big Bang Theory totally rocks!! For real. Waaay funnier than the anti-commi-frigid HIMYM.

Anyway, yesterday one of my geeks introduced me to a shiny new toy. It’s nothing like Loco‘s Sir Shinesalot, but it’s a lot more fun. Thing is, I can’t figure out how to turn it off. Kaboro hun, where’s the sign out on google talk?

For more information on 3CB, click here.

He asks me where I like to go out, and I say I don’t. Kwani [Okay, he’s TZian, he didn’t say ‘kwani’] what are my hobbies. I like to read. Si I can go to a restaurant and read a book? [Now why would I want to go to a restaurant to read a book?] I said I really don’t like going out [which is true, I’m like a major house-mouse].

I stare back at the water, and suddenly, he says ‘Karibu’ and walks away. Oops. Something I said? **pout** I was rather enjoying that. He was cute. Plus he’s the first attractive non-sugar-daddy-non-watchman-non-makanga to ever talk to me – voluntarily. And I scared him off. **Double pout** I need to learn how to talk to boys.

Anyway, halfway to the island, Bossman texts me to say he’s booked a hotel and a driver. Fine. [refer to 9 female words] I’d already called a friend of a friend of a…cousin, who’d agreed to fix everything. Oh well.

So we get to the island and we have two rides. I decide to take Bossman’s ride, then call up the other boy in the morning. He’s cuter. As I’m negotiating with my two drivers, Jamshid drifts by, waves and leaves. Sigh. He is sooooo pretty. [Note: I like pretty]I reeeaaally need to learn how to talk to boys.

We get to the hotel and Bossman calls raining fury and brimstone and all that good stuff because I’ve blown off his contact. Oh well. Me Kenyan. Umia.

[No, that’s not how I reacted. I was actually shaking at the prospect of being sacked for sassing my boss. Fortunately, I was not. Turns out the group had so much fun with my tour guy that I was forgiven for my initiative. Double Phew!]

Haya. Kufika hotel. I realize I’m short. Not in height. See, since I have a workpermit, I pay resident rates, which is like a third of what my guests have to pay. The Accountant didn’t factor that in. so here we are, three loud Kenyans trying to bargain the bed-rate at a fancy hotel, and the Zanzibaris are looking at us and thinking ‘Wakenya hawa.’ Hehehe.

We did get in eventually, and went for dinner, where we paid a cover charge of ten bucks a head for the ‘kenyans’, and 10K Tshillings for me. The Tshillings is currently at 1400 to the dollar … and 18 to the Kshilling. Of course, being the Kenyans we are, we calculated the actual cost of our meal, and found that we ate only19,000 Tsh worth of food, half of the cover charge. Refund!! No, we didn’t get one.

I went back to my room. It’s kinda pretty, except for three things. One, the water in the tap is so salty that after showering, you wipe yourself and the white towel stays clean. Disinfection, hehehe. [the next day after driving around all day, I wiped my sweating forehead and the white hanky stayed white. Either it’s the salt in the bathwater, or there’s no dust in Unguja].

On the downside, that water is so hard that you use a whole cake of soap to lather up! Said soap is round and white and packed like candy. Smells like it too. Yum! Two, the room faces the street, so I can hear the kids noising and the dads praying. And three, the only view I have leads straight into some lady’s kitchen, so all I can see are lesos and frying pans.

My room had a pretty plastic chandelier and a chair that was soooo comfy that I wanted to stuff it in my suitcase! Forget the bed – I want to marry this chair! I have a fetish comfy chairs – almost a syndrome. Everywhere I go, I test chairs for comfort level. It is my goal to find the ultimate chair for my sitto, one that I can curl up in and read for days at a stretch without getting sore on taut. This is that chair!!

I sank in the said chair and flipped channels. 63 of the, including Citizen and KTN. Yipee!! I must have sat there four hours watching Tyra’s models and Charmed [for fashion tips. Have you seen what those witches wear! Funky!!]

We were staying in Stone Town, and I had this romantic idea of walking along the narrow pathways, breathing in the scent of moist stone and salt water. Uh huh. When I finally did go for the walk, all I got were catcalls of ‘Vipi rasta’,propositions for boatrides, and a guy who asked me ‘looking for something special today’ in a tone reminiscent of K street. And it was 7.00 a.m. Sigh. So much for daydreams…

For more information on 3CB, click here.