We took what was supposed to be an 8-hour bus ride across the Kenya-Tanzania border and into Dar Es Salaam, Tanzania’s capitol. But just our luck, the bus broke down in a small town with no electricity just over the border, and we were confined to sitting outside in the scorching heat of mid-day, while men scrambled to fix the bus.

Traveling with the daughter of a mechanic has proved its benefits: Beth entertained us by guessing what was wrong. The brakes were air powered, and when the brakes were applied, the normal hissing sound sputtered and the bus jerked. She surmised that one of the tubes had a hole in it, causing air to leak out and lessening the power and force of the brakes. We watched as no less than seven men toiled underneath the bus, pulling out a hose from the engine and emptying liquid from the tank. “The break fluid,” Beth stated.

As we sat outside, we played dice games and talked to some other girls who were traveling through Africa for a few weeks. We drank Fanta, people watched, and chased shade around a small tree. The men fixing the bus pulled out the bus manual… not a good sign. But before long, they had extracted a long tube, and all left with it to work on it together. It was brought back, installed, and the bus was ready to go. It only took three hours to fix.

We arrived late in Dar, and spent the night in the YWCA, which Marjona observed was much more like a prison than a hotel. The next morning, however, we trekked down to the coastline, and scored a great little place called the Luther House, right next to a nice 5-star hotel, close to the water, and more importantly, with air conditioning. That night, we went out to an incredible dinner (a bit of a splurge, but it was the first day of February, a dreadful month, so we needed a pick me up) at a Chinese-Indian restaurant, and headed to the 5-star hotel for some shots of tequila.

After a few “lick, shoot, sucks”, we wandered into the casino for a look around. We were watching a roulette game when an Asian man scooted between us and threw down four crisp $100 bills, grabbed his chips and started distributing them around the table. Uh, we’re a bit out of our league, we thought. I went to the bar to try some “Kilimanjaro” a beer I had been reluctant to try because of the previously assessed superiority of “Tusker” we’d been drinking in Kenya. I returned to find Marjona and Beth around another roulette table… Marjona had put down 5000 Shillings (about $4), and had already doubled her money.

We sat there for the next 45 minutes or so as Marjona won and won and won, giving us a portion of her winnings each time, and playing the other portion. When we left, she had made 59,000 Shillings out of her 5000. Not bad at all. We walked over to the other table, and our Asian friend had already gone through his $400, and was throwing down more money. Marjona celebrated by buying us all a round of tequila shots to finish up the night, and stored the rest of her money away to be spent later in Zanzibar.