Getting out to Zanzibar is nothing short of the usual adventure. I miss the last ferry by 10min due to the bus breaking down, spend the night in a seedy hotel, and then take the morning ferry to Zanzibar. Here, I am planning to have a reunion with my friends from Britian.
Zanzibar is ruled by Tanzania but operates like it's own seperate city. It has a mayor and its own government. For hundreds of years Mulims and Christains have been living door to door without dispute. This is a great source of pride. I can see why they are able to live so peacefully. Zanzibar is instant happiness. It's hot don't get me wrong. I am dripping sweat. But, since the slave trade ended, spices and fish are their main source of income. It's a perfect marraige of things. There are parties on the beach every night and there is no electricity on the island, which is a major source of agrivation for tourists hoping for a cold beer. But for me, I am used to warm beer and I like candle light. Generators run the music at night and we have an amazing time.
I write in my journal on the last day:
On my last day, Africa is already calling me back. In a bus crammed with 20 people, I am watching the sun set through the palms..white sand, and blue/green water. The woman next to me is muslim, wrapped head to toe in floral. She is trying to speak to my in Swahili: "Jasmine.... rice" she says, referring to my name. I can only make out one or two words but smile kindly as her baby carresses my arm. Football has just let out and kids with kleets are crowding on. Trucks full of teenagers shouting and dancing are driving by. I have left all my dear friends from England- we met in Jinja, bumped into each other here and there. "It's rubbish that you're leaving" ...a confession from Tom. Maybe I will hold up to the promise I have made time and time again in Africa and return for longer. I cried with I left Nikki- the two of us shared just about everything between girls. We navigated East Africa together, fumbles and all. Two strangers.
Zanzibar:
Imagine paradise in a sweat room. This is Zanzibar. Black bodies, fishing from dug-out canoes in green water and white sand. I jumped into the water in the middle of a school of dolphins, I sat on pristine beaches, swam with sea turtles, snorkled world class reefs twice, sailed twice, toured old slave trade sites, visited a spice plantation, and danced at night with rastas and masai. Oh Africa, I'm going to miss the people here...the beautiful, optimistic, pole-pole-ness of it all.
After I leave Nikki, I arrive in Stonetown in the dark. A local boy walks with me to the ferry terminal. Talking makes the pitch black alleys of Stonetown less frightening. I'm impressed with myself. I remember the way. I get on the overnight ferry to the mainland, a 10 hour journey. Because I'm white, I get a couch, and I am too grateful to feel guilty. Foam mattresses cover every inch of the floor. People have brought food and bedding for the journey. I curl up on my backpack and fall asleep. I wake up when I am nearly falling off the couch with the rocking. Babies are rolling back and forth and, because they are African, also still asleep. The plaques on the walls are swinging at 45 degree angles, and I'm feeling pannicked. All the doors are locked, there are no life jackets, no window that could open. I accept my fate and go back to sleep. "Salaam alaikum sister, Jambo, Jambo" I have arrived in heaven and it is African, Islamic African. I wasn't expecting this. No, but I have arrived for my last few hours in Africa. ...So sad.
I rearrange my bags 6 times before they let me get on the plane. They give me 10lbs for free. Africa ;) I thought they could do better but in the end did the best they could to help me. 10lbs and most everything I wanted. I left a bribe, a suitcase, and clothes for the girls...who immediatley started trying things on. You live and learn... and in the end it always works out.
