Another day, another dalla

So I've fallen into a routine in Arusha.  It mostly involves a lot of internet cafe and regular cafe.  And lots of walking. 

It all seems so regular.  Until I think about it.  I start off by heading into town on the local minibus, comically overcrowded deathtraps known as dalla dallas (don't worry parents, I've already had my last dalla ride).  I hop off at the turn for the UN International Criminal Tribunal for Rwanda, which I walk past.  I'll pass women in traditional kange cloth, balancing baskets on their heads.  Similarly dressed women sit on the sidewalk, selling veggies and tropical fruits from wicker baskets, while red toga-clad Masai warriors check their facebook accounts in the internet cafe.  Safari 4x4s head up and down the street, for Kili, the Serengeti, wherever. 

Evenings are usually spent back at the apartment building, where interns, teachers, and volunteers from Belgium, England, Ireland, Zambia etc sit around the table, cooking dinner on portable gas stoves.