Smokin’ Moshi

I’ve been in Moshi for three weeks and I like it. Inasmuch as the dust is so fine and powdery that it eventually feels like it's part of one's daily makeup routine with how it sticks onto the skin like foundation, the country side offers a refreshing break from the concrete jungle that has become Nairobi. From here, I spot Mount Meru’s peak every day, and Mount Kilimanjaro’s iced top is always visible. The sights are sublime; I almost fell out of my hotel room balcony when I first saw the Kili’s icy peak at sunrise. It’s simply breathtaking.


The people are extremely polite. They say ‘pole kwa kazi’ as a sign of appreciation of the fact that one is working hard. The word ‘naomba’ precedes all requests. When you say ‘asante’, they thank you for thanking them and say ‘asante’ back. The youngsters say 'shikamoo' as a sign of respect. If only Kenyans could borrow a leaf!


I envy how fluent Tanzanians are in the Swahili language and have to console myself that they feel the same way when I speak in English. I cannot flow half as fast as they do when I’m talking in Swa, and I certainly cannot converse animatedly. I'm staying at an upcoming lodge, and on one of my Sunday evenings, I requested to be allowed to cook my dinner. At some point I felt like I was playing a game of charades when I needed a kichungi, which they call a kichujio, and I had to use signals to explain what this kichungi does. On another different occasion, we were hard at work at a factory. The day’s tasks involved lifting heavy boxes and carrying out a lot of manual work, and the workers I was with were exhausted. I needed a pair of scissors, but my simple request almost started a war of words with one tired man. The conversation went something like this:

Me: Naomba makasi
Guy: *In wonderment* Makasi!? Kwa kazi gani ile!?
Me: Si ya kukata?! (Tanzanians do not use the word ‘si’)
Guy: Makasi?! (Frustration. Tone climbs one decibel higher)
Me: Yale ya kukatia makaratasi? *I perform cutting actions with my fingers, wondering why he cannot figure that I’m asking for a pair of scissors in the first place*
Guy: Aaaaaah! Mkasi! Ukisema makasi, tunadhani ni vifaa vya *insert Swahili word for boat* Hamna wingi wa neno mkasi! Sasa naelewa. Unaomba mkasi. *The guy exits to get me a knife instead as there were no scissors*

Apparently makasi are oars, and the guy thought all the work was driving me nuts and I wanted them to look for oars in a factory. Tsk.

I also found out through conversation that ‘wife’ is not the same as ‘bibi’. This is part of a conversation with a waiter who I knew had gotten married only recently:

Me: Mambo?
Waiter: Safi, za kwako?
Me: Salama. Habari ya bibi?
Waiter: Yuko mzima, miaka tu ndio inambana.
Me: Ehe?
Waiter: Amezeeka kweli.
Me: *Thinking to myself, kwani he married an old woman!?*
Waiter: Anaishi mbali na hapa.
Me: *So this guy is the Mbugua Otieno of Moshi?! He married an old woman and doesn’t even live with her?! Why get married then!?*
Bibi yako ni mzee na ulikuja Moshi ukamwacha peke yake?! Nilidhani ulioa juzi?!
Waiter: Umeniuliza kuhusu bibi.
Me: Kwani “wife” ni nini kwa Kiswahili!?
Waiter: Wife ni mke. Bibi ni grandmother.

Define cross-purpose in conversation! It’s a pity that most Tanzanian’s do not speak English. I’m having a hard time being eloquent in Swahili (obviously, urban Kenyans’ Swahili is pathetic in comparison). But, I’m learning new words which I’ll export home (along with my stash from their SUPER DUPER, well stocked second hand market!) I learnt that tikiti (no, not ‘ticket’) is a watermelon. Avocados also have a name: parachichi! I intend to use these words at my local Mama Mboga. I wonder what she’ll tell me when I ask her if she’s got tikiti!