The Grasshopper and the Ants

Arusha is cold.

Here I am, mid-afternoon, rugged up for winter with a hot cup of tea to warm the fingers!

Yes, there’s great irony in the fact that I’ve come to the equator and am spending most of the day (and night) wearing woolly jumpers and socks, whilst England is basking in glorious, sun-soaked days. I hate wearing socks at the best of times, so am really not impressed with this reverse fortune.

Knitwear aside, life has settled into a rhythm and I feel very established back here. I moved back into my old flat – which has been repainted and spruced up since I left and is now shrouded with a rather sophisticated shade of grey.

I bought myself a few cheery plants to spice up the grey-tones and soon had a new pal come to stay.

My resident gecko buddies are firmly ensconced indoors, being too nippy for them in my garden, which leaves an outdoor flat-sharing position open. The role was (for a while) happily filled by my little grasshopper pal, who spent a merry few days basking on my plant. His tenancy, unfortunately, has not lasted all that long and he ended his week not quite as merrily as he started.

I know it is the nature of life, and I know we must all, man, beast and grasshopper, face our end at some point, but the death of little Erik (yes, I attempted to humanize him) did really sadden me. On just day two of his residence, I realized that perhaps he was not in the best of shape; his rear leg looking a little skew-whiff. A grasshopper with a broken leg is never destined for greatness, but still – he seemed happy enough on his leaf, supping his raindrop.

The next morning, I was a little alarmed to find him outside my bedroom door (not sure how he’d dragged himself through a locked, closed door - a suicide mission? a chance to bid me farewell? but there you go – epic Erik). When I returned him to his plant, however, I saw that his leg had in fact come off. I was then rather mortified to watch his eventual demise that morning (a sad enough moment) and then – even more mortifying and horrifying- witnessed his complete and total annihilation by the resident ant-army.

Within minutes of his death, the pack arrived and, after several minutes of high-brow tactical discussion of the best way to haul a giant dead grasshopper back to their queen, they decided on the “carry the leg and devour the rest” approach, leaving not a single trace of the little fellow behind.

Painful but utterly incredible to watch. So long Erik, I hope you hop a bit longer in the next life.

Aside from watching ants (something I always seem to find myself doing over here!) I’ve had a busy week catching up with old friends and re-starting my writing. My Chile to Kili cyclist buddy, Lelo, is back in town, having finished his epic two-year journey a month ago and finally cycled back home, so it’s been great to catch up with him and hear some of his extraordinary tales, as well as learn about the next part of the project (about which I will write more another time).

Having re-sampled several chipsy mayai (chip omlettes), chapattis and Kilimanjaro beers since my return, I am also delighted to say that the deliciousness of all remains intact (although the beer price has gone up - probably a good thing!) It also seems that my local banana-selling friend Beatrice is having an abundant time in her fields right now, and so there is a veritable market of food opportunities available from her, all just a few minutes wander from my house. Here was this morning’s purchase; all straight from the field and bought for less than 50p (my sister would be impressed!):

Vegetastic times ahead!

I have settled into a good writing rhythm and the work is coming along well. I have got a few regular activities to keep me amused midst the work and seeing friends: Wednesday night French films under the stars at the Alliance Francaise; a book club and discussion group that a friend and I have just started, plus plenty of walks and hikes in the hillsides. I have also, for one reason or another, spent a fair bit of time wandering up the nearby main road, the Arusha-Moshi highway, and have had the great amusement to see some of my best vehicular spots ever in my time in Tanzania; all of them this week.

There are four main types of transport hurtling up and down this busy road.

The dala dala

The piki piki or boda boda (aka the motorbike - no limit to its load...)

The truck (normally safari truck or suchlike)

And the bicycle.

Aside from the usual over-loaded bikes, dalas and piki pikis, plus a rather snazzy glow-in-the-dark dala dala that whizzed past me last night, I’ve also seen some epic loads: a sofa on the back of a piki-piki, complete with passengers (unable to take a picture fast enough, I’ll substitute this one – just imagine the sofa has two paying taxi-customers nestled on its cushions):

a bicycle carrying so much grass, it seemed to be melting under the weight:

and a bicycle carrying 12 crates of beer bottles. Again, I was almost too aghast to whip my camera out fast enough and snap the noble steed, but imagine the photograph below with full-of-bottles-beer crates instead; as high (if not higher), heavy and utterly, utterly precarious. Epically noble cycling!

So life is good; uninterrupted by much other than lots of writing, visiting wildlife and catching up with friends. I look forward to regaling tales of my upcoming non-human neighbours as the year continues; for now I’m off for a drink with a human one that’s just moved in next door. Am hoping  that she keeps a better hold of her legs than poor little Erik...

P.S. New post up on my other blog too: www.birdsandbeesandbigmistakes.blogspot.com