Look, look. Even me I'm dancing like an African.
Time stood still in Tanga; A tourist poster from (I assume) the 1970ties is hanging in a window of a tourist tour service in downtown Tanga.
Our stomach hurt with laughter. The rest of the day we asked ourselves:
But did you see the guy with the skirt?
Were LSD really so easily available in Tanga in the 1970ties?
Were they tourists or development workers?
Is this what happens when you take Ujamaa too seriously?
Is it too much pamoja?
Is it time to go home when you end up on a beach dancing in a skirt?
Where is that guy now (and does he know that he is hanging in a window in Tanga?)
