|
January 8, 2003, Zanzibar..... the ferry crossing was a bit rough, but we had staked out places on the top deck, and got wet, but at least not seasick like the poor saps on the bottom deck. The shifty German couple we kept running into on safari were there, along with the scottish and irish boys who are sowing their wild oats before settling back into the rat race - we overheard them in Arusha, at the Loudest Hotel on Earth. A couple different people followed us all the way to our hotel in Stone Town, trying to get us to come to their buddy's place, but they didn't succeed in doing anything but annoying the hell out of us. Still, not something new for us, and so the rest of the time when guys tried to sell us on Spice Tours and Prison Island boat rides and Swimming with Dolphins and eating at the new Thai/African Food Palace we just said no thanks and moved on. The Victoria Hotel was kind of cute and run down, but the crows ate Kara's breakfast and the whole stairwell smelled like petrol/kerosene. Lonely Planet said to have drinks at the Africa House, this massive old hotel with a Corona-ad balconey, filled with young couples and their adorable children, or just young groups of Brits looking for a party. It was New Year's Eve and we knocked back a couple Guinness and watched the maybe-maybe-not Peace Corps TZ girls smoke a hookah and flirt with sketchy Zanzibarian Rastafarians. At 11pm the power went off and we just sat there, waiting for everyone's watches to beep midnight, and listening to champagne being uncorked. The Brits did a drunken conga line and sang Auld Lang Syne, and they all had little bitty tank tops and lowlowlow-rider skirts. Is this the new style? We spent a few days in Stone Town eating pizza and indian and calamari, and then decided we needed to get out of dodge, so we arranged a Spice Tour. Up to the Gov't Plantation and then little stops at old Persian baths and a cave that may or may not have hidden slaves, once upon a time. They grow nutmeg, cloves, cinnamon, cumin, cardamom, vanilla, lemongrass, ginger, turmeric, saffron, pepper, coffee, cocoa, as well as mango, jackfruit, banana, papaya, coconut (this is a staple, in sauces), ylang ylang, taro and manioc. They roast the manioc tubercule and eat it with salt and chili powder, or boil it in coconut sauce, and goddamn if it's not a mile better than in Gabon. We kept asking ourselves why Gabon has not figured out how to cook - we have all of the same ingredients (ok, not the spices so much, but still) but gabonese food SUCKS. We topped off the Tour with a swim in the ocean, and then drank fresh coconut water (how does it get in there?) and went back. There were four girls our age on the tour with us (plus assorted Germans and Frenchies) and we figured out pretty quick that one was PC TZ, teaching math and biology in central boondock Tanzania, and her sister and two friends were visiting. "So where are you from?" they asked. Illinois - "oh, where in Illinois?" CHampaign. "I'm from Champaign too!!" wow! I didn't recognize her and thought she probably went to Central or Centennial. But no. Later on we finally got around to names and then there it was - "did you go to Uni? I'm Tara Ramathanaianapanw". I felt really bad that I only vaguely remembered her from doing the yearbook, and feel even worse that I can't remember her name now, after she told me. But she knew all about me, she was class of 97 and we had a good time talking about Erica Harold, Miss America 2002, and sharing the little news we had of other classmates. We took a picture of us in the Indian Ocean - look for it in your AlumUni. The next day after a scuffle with some irate taxi drivers we got to the East Coast and settled in at the beach.....books, sand, sun, octopus in coconut sauce, fried coconut fish with mango compote, coconut donuts in brown sugar, and a surprisingly yummy seasoned hamburger with real aged cheddar cheese - where do they get this stuff? Oh yeah, and we went swimming with dolphins. We met this really cool Farm volunteer from Guinea, who knew Jesse and had been there when Carrie R visited him, so we had a little Gabo-Guinea connection (Small World Part II). We sat up talking one night and the next morning we changed our plans (thus, the scuffle with the drivers) and went off to see the dolphins. We got set up with mask and snorkel and fins and got in the boat - there were maybe ten of us total. The Rasta guy pulled the cord to start the motor - nothing. Again. Again. He put his back into it and ssshhhht! the handle comes off in his hand. Well, shoot. The boys in the boats next to us start laughing like hyenas, this is the best thing they've seen all day. Rastaman yells at the petit to swim to shore and get him another motor. This takes a while, but the other boat boys keep up the cackling. Rastaman seems unperturbed. "Hakuna Matata, one love, man!" We change the motor but it doesn't start either. I point out that the fuel line has come off. Once they reconnect it off we go into the wild blue yonder - about 800 yards off shore. Immediately our boat boy spots a school and we swing around to chase them. Get ready! shouts Rastaman. It occurs to me that the last time I had fins on my feet I was in Cancun or Oaxaca or something and freaked out when I got too close to the sea urchins, but I figure this is the open ocean and dolphins are friendly, so - hakuna matata. We get close enough and leap out of the boat - they tell us to look down, because when we all hit the water the dolphins dive and scatter. I see nothing. I try to breathe and there's just water. I forget that I have arms and try to kick toward the boat, which is rapidly getting away from me. Everyone else seems to be ok but I am choking and can't see and am floating out towards Mozambique.... I remember that I have arms and swim to the boat. I designated myself team Photographer and took pictures of Chris and Kara and Mina, a German girl, swimming with the dolphins on subsequent leaps. This was more my speed. The school had maybe fifteen or twenty dolphins in it and they'd come real close to the boat, even with their babies - that was neat to see them all knifing through the water, together... This whole trip, it occurs to me, has been like the Discovery Channel. There is snorkeling at our hotel but I search my soul and realize that open expanses of salty water and wierd looking sea critters that may or may not be a) spiky and b) poisonous make me nervous. My trepidation about boats is also a hindering factor. We do manage to go out on a little dhow (rice bag sail, dugout canoe with side stabilizers - all twine and driftwood) with Martin the Austrian Med-student and Josh the American World Traveler and Sailing Expert. This was fun but I stood lifeguard in the boat while everyone swam in the lagoon. There was a funny little Swiss man at our hotel who adopted us, or pulled us into his web, somehow, and we had dinner with him I think every night, along with a very handsome Italian couple, Luigi and Christina, and some Germans and some English honeymooners who were on our dolphin boat. Luigi is one of those funny people, always smirky and telling jokes and creating laughter, and the Swiss guy, Andy, has a fear of silence and no inhibitions about making a fool of himself. We were well entertained, that's for sure - the Germans and the English couple were much more normal, just pleasant and interesting and interested - I would have liked to hang out with them more. Andy recommended to us a nice hotel (Malindi House Hotel) near the port in Stone Town for our last night in Zanzibar - cheap, but in this old house filled with brass and wood chests and old drums and persian carpet and incense burners and copper plates on the walls. It also won the prize for Best Breakfast - banana, pineapple, AND papaya, plus coffee, plus TWO eggs and bread. And - avocado juice (with lots of sugar - it was better before I knew what it was, I think, or maybe it was the pepper that blew into it because of the rooftop breeziness). Shared bathroom, but hey! - hot water. :) We now have our ferry ticket for this afternoon, and we fly out tomorrow after a night in Dar. Back to the grindstone, folks, but of course, as we've been explaining to all the crazy europeans we meet, we're really on a two year vacation. Tara said the roundtrip from NY to Dar was $1300 - if you have the time and money TZ and ZZbar are great! Hope all is well with you - take care!
hugs, |