In Arusha I thought I would stay for a day or so before moving on. This turned out to be a slightly ‘hotel risqué’ time for me. It was also a time in which I was almost taken advantage of by a woman called Elspeth who wanted more of me than I bargained for.
First of all, let me tell you what I remember of Arusha. Quite a sizeable town back then in 1984. It spoke of neglect, fading colours, rubbish blowing around the dusty streets and the whole town was down at heel. Almost everywhere seemed dirty, grubby and lacking in hope. Few people hassled me for money. It just seemed grim, grim, grim. Lots of things didn’t work; the electricity was apparently prone to going off without notice, the phone network was tricky and water pressure was variable. And of course, those essential utilities weren’t exactly widespread across the town in the first place.
The hotel I was staying in was the “official” hotel where foreigners were expected to stay. Because of this, it was expensive as the country clamoured for whatever foreign exchange it could get its hands on. The atmosphere was relaxed, nobody seemed to be in a hurry at all. Guests shuffled around in flip-flops and many of the staff looked awkward in Western footwear. Architecturally speaking, I suppose it was cutting edge, relatively speaking. Pebbledash over boxy concrete, a central courtyard with open corridors and landings to the hotel room doors. The courtyard had tables and chairs for guests to take their snacks and drinks.
The hotel felt a safe place to be with a couple of guards on duty from around dusk. They were armed truncheons and horse whips. Exactly who they expected to use these weapons on was a mystery. Nevertheless it was nice being recognised by these guys when I got back to the hotel after an evening stroll as they opened and let me in through the front door. When I passed through one said there was a message for me at the reception desk. Intrigued I went across to ask about this.
The receptionist was a smart woman, older than me with excellent English, spoken with a tinge of Kiswahili and American accents all mixed together. Her name was Elspeth and indeed had an important message for me but was unable to enlighten me at that time, saying she’d call the room telephone later on. This didn’t seem to make any sense, so I promptly ignored it and had a beer and a meal.
Later that evening I was starting to feel drowsy; I’d eaten well, pedalled quite a few miles and caught the sun a little more. Time for bed. It was the following morning when Elspeth found me at breakfast and I remembered something about a message.
“I will need to talk to you at the hotel office, you must come, please, after your breakfast and it is important this is kept entirely confidential”. This was said an incredibly business-like manner.
So I dutifully reported to reception. “I need to see your passport” she demanded.
“Ah you are English, that is good. I have something very important I must discuss with you and it is confidential. You must not talk about this to the other guests or staff in the hotel”.
I was certainly intrigued and also relieved. She wasn’t interested in me, it seemed, simply the fact I was English. Or so I thought.
“I wish to come to England with you. Do you have a wife or a girlfriend?”
“No I don’t” I said, wondering if sharing the truth was setting me up for something.
“When you finish your cycle ride, you must come back to Arusha and we will travel together to England. I will work for you, I will do whatever you ask. For now, you need some money changed?”.
Elspeth went onto explain I needed to have receipts for changing a certain amount of money at a Bank. This was to demonstrate I had been spending money in Tanzania and that I hadn’t been using the black market. She explained this was all very open to negotiation. Furthermore (and this was the point she was getting to) she could change some money for me at a far higher rate than the official exchange.
This presented me with a problem as I didn’t want her to know I already had plenty of Tanzanian shillings. I managed to wriggle out of it by explaining I was short on cash and only had traveller’s cheques which I needed to cash at a bank. Elspeth was disappointed but then came to the point she was really wanting to make.
“I’ll come to your room later on, much later. I’ll give you a good time”. I bluffed my way out of this, wondering if I’d had a lucky escape.
Elspeth seemed to be on duty continuously, it was difficult to avoid her as I went in and out of the hotel. I needed to choose my moment when she was busy dealing with other people. Persistently she called me that evening on the room telephone, there seemed little escape for me and I was thinking of moving on sooner than expected. She went onto pay me all kinds of compliments and wanting to see more of me. Seeing more of me, she explained, was that she wanted to see MORE OF ME and she liked what she was imagining me to look like.
Then the penny dropped in my mind for sure.
I was out of there like a shot. Off to the next town, Moshi, and a beckoning Mount Kilimanjaro. In my mind, I wouldn’t look back. Suddenly I was feeling vulnerable and my confident street sense had let me down. I was cross with myself, should’ve seen it coming instead of being so naive.
RSS – Posts