Rice

Back at the desk in Dar es Salaam after two months, I pulled out my post-its and someone had left this cute note, perhaps in anticipation of my return. Or I just missed it before my two-month stint in southern Africa.

If anything illustrates the humidity of Dar es Salaam, it’s the final demise of my cracked phone screen. The moisture has entered it and sent it into permanent paroxysms of button-pressing and emergency call-making. As I write it’s sealed in a container covered by rice, and I hope this trick is not an urban myth.