The First Night

So we arrived last night to Kilimanjaro Airport at 8pm Africa time (12pm Charlotte time). The airport isn't much of an airport really...just one long tarmac strip and a big building. Our jet looked huge compared to what was around it. The first thing we noticed was the blackness. Aside from the airport lighting, the surrounding area was completely black. Accordingly, there were more stars than any of us cared to count. After getting through customs, we realized that the hotel we had been booked at hadn't sent the car they said they would, so after a bit of dealing and some assistance from a "cab dispatcher," we stumbled upon what would become the Jesus of our first few hours in Africa. His name was McMillan, a student of accounting in Arusha, who was also a cab driver. Initially we were worried, because the dispatcher kept repeating what sounded a lot like directions to the hotel. We were convinced we were going to get lost. We got on our way, cruising at a pleasant 80mph down dark Africa highways dotted with pedestrians and cyclists. I noticed as a looked closely at the side of the roads that what appeared like total darkness and ghost towns was actually peoples' houses...there just wasn't any electricity. When it is nighttime, it is nighttime. McMillan did his best in broken English to educate us on Arusha and the surrounding area before arriving at what we thought was the right hotel. When we arrived, it turned out that there are actually two hotels by the same name, and that this one isn't ours. I should mention that it was mostly McMillan doing the talking, since he, of course, speaks Swahili. He did teach me some words though as we leaned on the cab drinking the complimentary "iced tea" from the hotel we weren't even staying at. After some minutes, we got back in the much-too-small cab and headed a quarter kilometer down to the other hotel. This one was scary. We drove down a long dirt road surrounded by tall grass and approached what looked like a bar. Sure enough, it was a hotel, but they weren't expecting us at all, and we didn't really want to be expected...at least at this place. Again, McMillan (our Messiah) did some dealing, and then he and my mom decided to go back to the original hotel (it was much nicer) with us to see if we could get a room. We ended up with two rooms for the night, and my mom is now trying to negotiate for more. We got help moving our luggage from the chef, the bellhop, and the deskboy. Truth be told, everyone here so far has been extremely nice, even if our Swahili does suck terribly. We got into our rooms, which were actually pretty nice, including the huge mosquito nets. I took a shower, which I was told would be hot, but was actually freezing. I made sure to keep my mouth closed so as not to catch malaria or some other shower disease. Eventually, we got to bed comfortably and got ready for our first daylight African experience.