A Slow Day in Moshi

Yesterday was one of those quiet, ordinary days that only reveal their value once they’re over.

The morning began with breakfast. The coffee wasn’t great — far too strong, overloaded with coffee powder, almost like an exaggerated Turkish coffee. Drinkable, but not enjoyable.

After that, it was finally time to do laundry. It had been waiting long enough. I washed my clothes and hung them up in the dorm, watching them dry. Simple, necessary, grounding.

Later, I went out for lunch and had chips, then decided to go for a walk through town. Since I had washed my shoes earlier, I wore my Earth Runners. They’re still new, but not unfamiliar — I had already worn them back in early December when I was walking around with my daughter. Putting them on again carried a quiet memory with it.

I first walked up the road toward Union Café, but halfway there I changed my mind. Instead, I passed it and continued toward the park, thinking about getting a smoothie.

Inside the park, I wandered around for a bit, giving myself time to decide. While walking, I noticed several Christmas Trees — the kind that bloom around Christmas and get their name from it. They were still flowering slightly, though the blossoms were slowly falling away.

Eventually, I ended up at the Wishing Tree — my favorite place for smoothies. It’s tucked away in the park in Moshi, calm and familiar. I sat there, enjoyed a smoothie, and thought about dinner. Maybe noodles from the supermarket, maybe not. I stayed longer than planned, relaxing, even though the TV from the neighboring place was far too loud. Still, this spot remains a small refuge for me.

When I finally paid and got up, I decided to skip the supermarket and head back to the hostel instead. On the way, I took a small detour, walking past the hotel where I once stayed with my daughter — a place holding quiet memories.

Before reaching the hostel, I stopped at the small corner store across the street. I bought noodles, a Coke, and an apple soda. Then I walked straight back, sat down at the bar, and slowly drank what I had bought.

For a while, I debated dinner again — should I eat the noodles or order something warm? I left the decision open.

The rest of the day passed on the rooftop restaurant of the hostel. I sat there, checked some things online, and kept drinking Coke. Eventually, I made up my mind: rice and beans. I ordered food, moved from the sofa to a table, and enjoyed a simple dinner.