For a few weeks I had the distinct impression that Meghan’s smelly workout shirt was following me. Everywhere I went – there the shirt was – hanging from the rafters or the door knob to dry. Often it was fluttering in the breeze of a ceiling fan which also served to circulate the Shirt’s pungent odor of BO throughout our shared room at various Southern African backpackers.
I guess at the beginning I wasn’t completely sure Meghan’s Shirt was the source of the smell, as the odor of BO is fairly common in these parts. So before I unfairly accused the Shirt, I did a some investigating.
Is it me? By doing a quick self sniff check I was able to rule myself out. Someone in the room next door or outside? No, this smell was much closer to home. Finally, I got the courage to smell the Shirt at close range, and a positive identification of the culprit was made. This accomplished, I began the much more difficult task of convincing Meghan it was time to WASH the Shirt.
Meghan is about 5’2, 130 lbs and her 80 litre backpack is almost as big and heavy as she is. It’s definitely even if one adds the 15-20 lbs of stuff she carts around with her in 4 smaller bags. Her stuff has grown since the trip began and shows no signs of diminishing, as she’s decided to buy presents from what must be close to the entire state of Minnesota. Some of these things include:
1 bottle of wine
1 bottle of raunchy Malawi Gin
5 one kg bags of cashew nuts
9 spice boats (plus 20 smaller spice packets)
5+ yards of Tanzanian fabric.
Then she has enough clothing so that she can go almost and entire month without wearing the same thing twice.
Nora in contrast doesn’t have enough clothing, and she somehow keeps ripping holes in her pants and get the few items she does have impossibly dirty. She has so few clothes that she wears the same thing almost everyday; purple shirt, green shirt, brown shirt, repeat.
Oh the girls, this trip wouldn’t be as fun without them!
This Is Africa 