Nakumatt

On our way back from our organization's conference in Kenya, my roommate and I had the privilege to visit a well-known store called Nakumatt.  It was expected that we visit - it's "the place" to go to get needed supplies for cheap.  Kind of like Walmart, but ... not.  Think not quite as big or open selection... but then again, as you'll soon learn, it was quite enough for me!

As we wandered through the aisles, I realized just how much I've adapted to living in Africa.  I live in Dar es Salaam, which is by far the biggest industrial city in the country.  We have places like Shoppers (a South African supermarket chain) and Mlimani City, which is as near to a mall as you'll get in Tanzania.  And I thought the selection was pretty darn amazing.  But as I walked through the aisles of Nakumatt, considering what deodorant to buy at a great price, how many cheap toys to grab for my classroom Starbucks (Prize) Store, or what cheese to take back to the Land of Tanz, I quickly became completely overwhelmed.

The following thought crossed my mind; "What would I do if I had a place like this near where I lived?" 

Then, it dawned on me.  I've lived within 10 miles of a Meijer or Walmart my entire life in the States... sometimes both.  As I said before, this isn't quite up to par with such places.  And yet, this experience left me completely flabbergasted and almost exhausted by the amount of choices - and great prices - available on each of the shelves.

One of Marie and my favorite purchases were some sturdy backpacks for about $10.  Knowing that my parents were soon coming and that we'd be attempting to climb a mountain, we both recognized that a sturdy backpack was going to be a necessity in the near future.  And we had searched in the local markets for a couple, only to find super-cheap material and backpacks already falling apart, costing the equivalent of $20 or more.  These, of course, were accompanied by guys that grabbed our arms and tried to drag us back to their stand when we said, "hapana asante, bwana, labda badai" (no thanks, sir, maybe later).  With this in mind, the prospect of sitting in a big area all alone, surrounded by good-quality bags with price tags that meant what they said, and not being even asked a question by a salesperson, was rather refreshing. 

Not that I mind the bargaining here.  Not at all, actually.  Now that I've finally gotten to the point where I know such conversations aren't personal, I rather enjoy the bantering back and forth and the joking that goes along with it.   It's just that the prospect of such a quiet retreat in an actual store filled with available goods was mind-opening, to say the least. 

So it turns out that, one day, I just might live near someplace like a Nakumatt... perhaps, if I'm lucky, called MEIJER.  Or Nakumatt in Dar.  We'll see, with the new open-borders policy in East Africa!  If so, I'm trying to prepare myself for the shock such an endeavor might have on my senses and on my life.  I guess I'll find out soon enough!

(Pole sana rafiki - so sorry friends - that no pictures accompany this blog.  I was somehow too overwhelmed to think to take out my camera and capture such an event on a memory card for all of you to experience with me!)