Just a few photos from my most recent trip. We aborted the plan to go to Gombe and see the chimps when our plans to ride the train across TZ from Dar was thwarted by the lack of a train until Aug. 10 -- this was on Aug. 2. So we instead took off for the north, along the Swahili coast, which is a part of Tanzania richer in culture and history than the entire Tanganyika hinterland combined (maybe that's an exaggeration, but not by much). That's Islam, for you. They wrote things down, and they knew about the wheel.

From Dar to Tanga, Tanzania, a two-hour daladala ride to and from the best-kept-secret beaches of Pangani, and across the Kenyan border into Mombasa. It was a good eight days. Although I must admit: I am tired. Really tired. In the cabeza. I just want to chill, seriously, for the next week before I leave for NYC. But moods of future joy, right? I'm back in Arusha for yet another breather, no more than two full days once again, before another adventure starts tomorrow -- climbing Mt. Meru, our backyard mountain, which, buzzkill alert, I have recently discovered to have been a fictional mountain in Buddhist lore.

But I'll take it.

Here are two classic pictures.

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From Pangani.





(the following conversation took place in Swahili).

Old Muslim man: "You look like me!" (as he gestures towards my beard)

Me: "It's true!"

Old Muslim man: "HA! HA! HA HA HA!"

Me: (reciprocating laughter) "Here, let's take a picture together!"

and then

"Don't be shy! Touch my beard!"

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From Mombasa.

I was just taking a picture of this classic graffiti, when they all yelled "Picha!" and I motioned for them to stand still.

Don't Hate Da Player, Hate Da The Game

I love the symbolism -- these types of kids usually ask for money any time they see a Mzungu. But you can't get mad. You can't be a playa da the hater.