I recently attended a conference in Iringa, which is a lovely place in which there is a phone number that one can call and people will bring one pizza in exchange for money. It's a fabulous business model. I have no idea the name of the business or anything relevant like that, the phone number is simply something I received from another volunteer and have passed it on in my turn. There is also a business at which one can eat soft-serve ice cream while reading Tanzanian magazines full of valuable dating advice: to whit, wives should sometimes be thanked for doing "simple" tasks like laundry (have you ever attempted to wash all your clothes in a bucket dear reader? It is, admittedly, simple conceptually, but a lot of work), and women should regard boyfriends as computer viruses, and breakups should be followed up with metaphorical reformatting, whatever that means. So it goes in the world of gossip magazines. The important part of all this, however, is that the outskirts of Iringa town are littered with climbable giant boulders, which we climbed.
The last time I climbed these boulders in Iringa, there was a man at the top making a music video, with neither photo nor audio equipment, by singing into a rolled up piece of paper and having his friends act as backup dancers, which was rather fabulous.
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