Kuuliza si ujinga

Today, I happened to be going to town with the daughter of a friend of my headmaster's family, who had been staying at the headmaster's house. As we neared town, she said "Karibu kwetu", welcome to my house. I was in no hurry and some of my best moments in Tanzania have come from following random calls of "Karibu kwetu". So, we got off a little before town and went to her house.
As it turns out, she lives at a sort of hospice for sick people. Her mother is a nurse, and takes care of the people living there. I mostly met the people there in passing, simply greeting them as I entered or left. But there was one, a blind and deaf man, who I spent a bit longer 'talking' to.
Being blind, he couldn't see me to know that I wasn't Tanzanian. Being deaf, he also couldn't hear me. I talked to him by writing letters on the palm of his hand with my finger. I wrote: "Habari?"--how are you? He replied aloud "Nzuri, nzuri"--good, good. The grandmother who was helping me communicate with him told me to say who I was. I wrote "Mzungu" (white person). This was apparently such a random thing to say that it took the help of a more expert writer-of-letters-on-palms for the message to get through. She wrote very fast, and I have no idea what was said. I ended with "Pole" (condolences) and I think she then wrote "Goodbye" on his hand.
For all the adventures I've had trying to communicate in Kiswahili and Kiiraqw, this is the most interesting and unexpected communication experience I've had in Tanzania.