'Phishing' for ice-cream

My friend Paul sent me an email this morning to say that he was in the air between Paris and Singapore. Don't you hate that?! Forget that I haven’t even updated my blog to include what I did for Christmas this has sent me on a minor off course collision with freshly squeezed thoughts of Kir Royale, pain au chocolat and anything indulgent and bad for me. What I wouldn’t do for a shopping spree and copious amounts of oh la la to pass the days roaming the streets of Paris. Oh how I miss the very things that sent me packing off to Africa in the first place. The guaranteed pay-check, the Friday night drinks with friends leaving me hung-over for exactly the duration of the weekend until Monday morning and everything expensive, especially chocolate!

But now that I think about it….twenty months later, my Swahili is not so good, I was miserable for much of my first year here but I am a demon with a funding proposal and found the love of my life. I have few hangovers anymore, I have learned how to find roads that don’t exist (and not drive over anything with two legs or more while on the road), I can make bread and can finally swim with confidence.  I miss all those dear to me terribly but there are some things in life you just have to do.

I recently looked in my wardrobe and pitied its owner.  My reputation is all but ruined. How do you restock when you live in the back end of Africa and don’t have access to online shopping simply because anything you order for delivery ends up in the hands of the lovely man or woman in the post office, who might I add swiftly decides it would look better on someone else once (s)he’s extracted a fine few shillings for your new garment(s) from whoever will buy. But what about the very accessible markets the voice in my head tells me. The second hand market is infamous in Africa. A whole industry and millions of people make a living from the hand-me-downs and cast offs that we have all thrown in a bag and sent down to the local charity bin. I have to say I already have a number of quite good looking items I picked up for a euro or two in my scant wardrobe. Instead of worrying about wearing dead person clothes, which is usually a big possibility when shopping in charity shops back home, I wonder about who on earth can throw away new and almost brand new clothing. Not that I have been that lucky but there are many items including Old Navy, Gap and other high street brands that come out here with the labels still on. The big guys are hardly donating their seconds, surely not!? If you’ve ever wondered where your used or not wanted clothing goes, it goes to right here in the middle of Africa. A lot of what I see here in TZ is from the US and so millions of people go about their daily lives wearing T-Shirts that might say ‘2010 Junior High class’ or ‘Wisconsin warriors’ and some more tongue in cheek which always looks hilarious because you know that people have no idea what they are wearing.

There is two sides to every industry and while I think it’s a great substitute (when I‘m in the mood to trawl through the stalls) for what I can’t buy back home there are many in the textile industry who have been put out of business as it’s easier for people to buy western clothing cheaply in the market than it is to get someone to make something at a local stall. It could also be said that the clothing that you intend for poor people is certainly not getting to them and instead becomes part of a chain of traders who profit on what you give away with good intention.  An article such as this summarises a little of the story behind the second hand trade in East Africa.  http://www.iq4news.com/lauramkenya/fashion-second-hand-clothing-booming-business-kenya

But while I pity myself for not having anything new to wear and swoon over all I really want is a tub of Ben and Jerry’s phish fish food ice-cream to devour with greedy delight.  What I wouldn’t do for a tub…..