Luxury accommodation

We just returned to the south to resume the second phase of fieldwork and found that all the guesthouses in the village where we had intended to stay were full to the brim with workers from my organization who are conducting a 250,000 person survey in the region. Apparently they are so many, they are sleeping on grass mats on the floor of the local school as well. Desperate and rapidly becoming impoverished from what was already a $60 taxi ride, we headed north to the next town (Lindi, which I blogged about in November) and following the recommendations of 3 people, chose a local guesthouse called “Another Coast.” The solitary perk is that I think I can hear the ocean from my room. Then again, it could also be a distant generator or a lorry truck. I can’t be sure.

For my $6 per night, I get the following amenities:

· A door that doesn’t open all the way because it hits the bed. Said bed has a hard-as-rock pillows on it, a single sheet, and a gorgeous Chinese vellux-like plush blanket.
· My very own bathroom with squat toilet, constantly dripping shower, and wall-mount sink. Of course, the brilliant architectural design means that the first footstep you make into the bathroom is into the squat toilet hole. To make a good thing even better, I just accidentally peed on the cuffs of my pants while at the squat toilet because they weren’t hiked up far enough. And of course, no soap or toilet paper. Always a pleasure.
· A TV (which all Tanzanians will tell you is the hallmark of a quality guesthouse, a very special amenity even if it only has one channel, as most do). But mine only turns on if the bathroom light is turned off. When on, it apparently has a short because it stays on for about 5 seconds—just long enough to verify there is only one channel—and then turns off.
· Mosquitoes galore. There are at least 25 mosquitoes in my room before dusk, in a room that has been closed up all day, and to make a good thing better, the mosquito net has holes in it. Breaking out the sewing kit now…
· High-gloss paint halfway up the walls (this actually is a perk because unlike normal Tanzanian paint, it is scrubbable).
· A squawking newborn in the lobby across the hall, the baby of the receptionist. Makes me thrilled to have my own on the way.

No wonder this place is a tourist Mecca (don’t all of you dream of visiting Lindi?). Permit me just a little sarcasm, I need it right now.