The heart of the matter

I’m in Arusha, the heart of Africa, equidistant from Cairo and Capetown, if not from the Atlantic and the Indian Oceans. The Rwanda Genocide Commission is located here and if it miraculously takes me less than eight hours to book a plane ticket and a bus ticket and change some money, I understand that I am welcome to witness the proceedings unfold. It’s about ten degrees cooler than it was in Dar Es Salaam, Mount Meru looms in an unimposing fashion and most of the ATMs in town are out of cash.

I wasn’t 100% certain that I was onto a winner when I emailed the Everest Chinese Restaurant and Inn in Arusha to see if they had a room. Happily, the Everest is a gem, half-polished, tis true, but a gem nonetheless. I don’t believe I’ve stayed in an inn on this trip but I am obviously in favour of the concept of food and lodging, particularly of the cheap and charming variety. The spry proprietor dashes around in loud waistcoats and his daughters chat on the sly. And the restaurant, the restaurant is an honest-to-goodness Chinese restaurant! The closest I’ve come to Chinese food since leaving Australia is the raviolis grillés in Paris.

(Sidenote. Raviolis grillés are fried dumplings available at the millions of traiteurs chinois in Paris. They all taste the same, full of pork and ginger and shallots, they’re all served with the same iridescent red chilli sauce, they’re generally heavy, reheated and a bit gluggy but they are WONDERFUL, an unsung guilty junkfood pleasure of the City of Lights and an antidote to any amount of pastis, vin rouge or Cointreau.)

So yes, Chinese food. It has been too long. You might be reading this with easy access to sizzling chicken with ginger and chilli and so not be able to share the excitement that a just replenished scarcity induces.
This is not the best Chinese food I’ve eaten – no BBQ King (Sigh. Same décor though.), no Billy Kwong, no Marigold, no Fu Manchu, no Shanghai Dreams – but, even with the in my view highly unorthodox addition of cucumber to the hotplate, still pretty damn sizzling good. I dreamed of yum cha and handmade noodles and Peking duck and steamed oysters with ginger and shallots and black vinegar. I’m still debating the rights and wrongs of an all-dumpling dinner tonight. There’s great, cheap seafood on the coast and lots of lifesaving Indian restaurants around but otherwise, Tanzanian food hasn’t really knocked my socks off. As a result, I have begun to develop some quite specific cravings, including:

1. Very, very cold champagne, sauvignon blanc and/or cocktails and the right people to drink them with.
2. Bread and cheese. Same old, same old. Soft white baguette with Camembert, a ripe Tome or a randy, rindy goat (St Maur?) or a dark rye with Roquefort would be a nice start.
3. Non-threatening salad with non-radioactive dressing.
4. Olives that haven’t been chemically treated.
5. Sashimi. Lots of sashimi. Again, sashimi of the non-gastroenterologically threatening variety.
   

Obviously, this is an abridged list. I am not confident that any of these desires will be fulfilled in the short term. What’s a fulfilled desire but a force expended anyway? Tomorrow I’ll board a big air-conditioned coffin of a bus and quit Arusha for Kampala. I’m still not entirely sure how long the bus trip will last. Recent advice is hedged between seventeen and twenty five hours. Hello, swollen ankles and woozy brain. As I’m leaving Tanzania so soon, now is the time to append the following...

Lesser known facts about Tanzania!

1. Food is universally under-salted.
2. Table salt shakers are invariably blocked and require a fork-driven intervention in order to remedy #1.
3. Tanzania’s roads are better than Kenya’s.
4. Mexican soaps dubbed into English are really popular telly fare.
5. The African Queen was shot in Tanzania.
6. The trees are full of nests and the skies full of birds.