A
little while ago I popped in to visit good friends of mine on the way back from
the shops. They lived just a two minute walk from my home in Mbeya and now they
are just a ten minute walk away from my home in Gloucester. I would frequently
pop into their home when we lived close by in Tanzania, and as I dropped round
to their Gloucester home I suddenly realised how bizarre it was – every aspect
of that walk to the shops and to their home was many miles removed from
Tanzania (both metaphorically and literally) and yet underneath it was the
same!
Instead
of a dirt road, it’s tarmac. Instead of going to lots of little shops I could
go to one or two big shops. Instead of shillings it’s pounds. Instead of
Swahili it’s English. Instead of asking at the counter I walk around. Instead
of very little choice I’m swamped with options. Instead of a shop-owner with a calculator
it’s a touch-screen, self-serve checkout. Instead of dodging daladalas I’m
walking along pavements and crossing at traffic-lights. Instead of a cool
cement house it’s a centrally-heated brick house.
But I got food and I saw friends. Different but the same :-)
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