Post Kili Come-Down

After receiving our Kili "certificates" which I was asked to fill out, except for my own, which was given to someone else to fill out, resulting in my certificate reading "Congratulations COLLEEN", we had a beer, which was practically suicide considering our bodies could barely process water, never mind alcohol. The great thing about Tanzanian beer is that you could never ever get a domestic confused with an imported beer, considering the names are literally, Safari, Kilimajaro, and Serengeti. Not much for imagination, but inspirational nonetheless. The beer was free for making it to the summit, which made all of us grateful for making it. How badly would you feel if not only did you not make it to the summit, but had to pay for your beer on top of it. Harsh.

We decided to take our tour leader out for dinner, asking in exchange that he take us to a real Tanzanian restaurant. After 5 days of various stews, and many, many cliff bars later, we were ready for a real cultural culinary experience. Where we ended up still confuses me to this day, and probably always will. We ended up at a restaurant resembling a German ski chalet, where not surprisingly, everything was written in German and the waitresses uniforms could only be described as one very small step away from leopard spotted lederhosen. My instinct is to say, "it wasn't pretty", but it kinda was. I still have no idea what the intention was since there was actually no German food on the menu...I'm not sure there was any Tanzanian food either to be honest. We all ended up ordering generic chicken stir-fries and pretended to not be disappointed. Since we were all practically paralytic from the effects of our one beer, we actually probably didn't mind at all until we were done, then realized we had no idea what the point was of what we'd just eaten. Hm.

Hey, good news is, I've started getting feeling back into my fingers and toes! So there's something!