Matemwe, Zanzibar (posted subsequently)

The taxi ride from Stone Town to Matemwe was beautiful; the three of us were pretty much silent, just watching out the window as we passed through small towns in the interior of the island on our way to the eastern coast. We turned onto a sandy dirt road and eventually we started seeing signs that said Matemwe but we continued on this dirt road for what felt like forever, passing through a local village but seeing only a few tourist type accommodations. I began to wonder where on earth this hotel was and since I had chosen it, I hoped that it wouldn’t disappoint. We reached a tall gate that bordered the village and waited for someone inside to open up. After a few honks and a lot of waiting someone finally showed up to let us in. It wasn’t the warmest of welcomes and the vibe was a little off; it was hard to place, the resort was really quiet, not another soul in sight. And while the prospect of a pool was wonderful and the room was pretty nice, the restaurant was formal and deserted and not at all appealing. Um, and there was no bar. We inquired about the bar and were told he could buy us a few beers in town or we could walk down the beach to check out the bar at other locations. Hmmm…

Judith was quick to point out that we should just pay for the first night and we set off for a stroll down the beach in search of a frosty beverage. I had heard about the beauty of Zanzibar’s beaches and had wondered how they would compare to Madagascar. The water was similar, an inviting crystal clear, light aqua color - but the sand! The sand was unbelievable. Not just white sand but soft and powdery - like walking in flour! We didn’t have to walk far, we passed a local soccer game that had drawn a large crowd from the village and looked up to see a large hut with Bob Marley playing and a smiling Rastafarian dancing and beckoning us from the doorway. I couldn’t resist and said we should at least pop in for a beer. There were a few men inside the hut, one behind the bar and the rest seated around a table watching a soccer game on TV. Everyone greeted us warmly and we were ushered to a table where they were quick to bring us cold beers. 

After a little conversation we asked if they knew of a place in the area that had rooms available. Our hosts were happy to let us know that they had bungalows available on site! The owner, Ally Keys as he called himself, showed us some rooms, we made a deal and we decided to move into our new room the next morning before we headed off for our snorkeling trip! We spent the afternoon relaxing and getting to know our new friends and even had a delicious dinner (of perfectly cooked octopus) at Keys’ Bungalows.

I planned our snorkeling trip to Mnemba for the morning because my experience and everything I’ve ever heard was that snorkeling/diving conditions are best in the morning. I didn’t factor in the extremely low tide at Matemwe which required that our boat driver to hop out fairly often and pull the boat through especially low water areas. I kept having visions of him spearing a foot on the sea urchin that were literally everywhere but he was an experienced local and thankfully made it through without any incident. We finally reached the gap in the reef and were able to get the motor up to full speed and blast out towards the picture perfect island of Mnemba. I was confused why we were veering away from the island until our guide pointed out the group of dolphins nearby. 

He asked if we wanted to swim with them and before I could even say yes I was scrambling to put on my fins and my mask. The water was quite deep but was still incredibly clear. It was just wide open water and the dolphins swam around this general area, allowing snorkelers and divers to swim with them. With GoPro in hand I took my first stab at underwater video and my first take was of the group, two of which were mating! The group would rise to the surface to breath and swim along the surface for a while before they would again dive deep below. I was able to keep up with them along the surface as they swam deep below me. I counted seven dolphins; five adults and two babies that swam just below their mothers. As they began to rise again, I maintained my speed and then suddenly realized that our paths were about to intersect. I was startled by their size as I drew closer to the group. I had been in water with dolphins once before in the Florida Keys - but only with two trained dolphins, not a group of seven wild dolphins in the open ocean.

I didn’t panic, but did feel a bit conflicted. I was amazed at the experience of being able to swim so close to them, I could hear their chirps and squeaks in the water, and as they continued to rise I considered that I was close enough that I might be able to touch one. I wondered what would happen if I did touch one, would it be upset? Would it just flick it’s tail knowing that it could swim far faster than I could? Would it turn and swim towards me to chase me off? I couldn’t imagine that it would attack me but it certainly could, especially given the two babies in the group. These considerations were at odds with my desire to feel their smooth skin as they swam by me and in the moment of truth I reached out tentatively but didn’t swim any faster and they skimmed along just out of reach - probably all for the best. You can watch this video HERE.

I swam along behind them and occasionally above them taking a few more videos and photos until I grew tired from trying to maintain their pace, knowing that there was still snorkeling ahead. It was an awe inspiring experience to be so close to them especially because they were allowing it. They could have easily swam away, but they allowed me to observe them gliding along so close to them. We continued on to the nearby reef and enjoyed a few more rounds of snorkeling with the incredibly vibrant tropical fish. It’s too easy to lose track of time diving under the water to follow another beautiful specimen here and there. Time, sun, hydration… all quickly forgotten. I’m used to being the last one to get back on the boat; almost every snorkeling trip I’ve ever been on I tend to linger in the water and this was just the same. 

Our guide cracked open young coconuts for us and we quenched our thirst with legit coconut water and then scraped out the sweet soft flesh from the inside. Next was pineapple and some watermelon, all freshly chopped with our skipper’s machete and handed around the small boat. Laying on the bough to dry off in the sun after our little rehydration snack, it was bliss, the motion of the boat, the perfection of the water, the sun, the salt. Even our trip back, I know I will never forget the feeling of those boats in Madagascar and Zanzibar, skimming across the most beautiful pristine water I’ve ever had the fortune to swim in; every which way I’d turn was another postcard worthy landscape, I felt bliss and lived purely in the moment, savoring it, knowing that it was temporary but something I hope I can hold onto forever.

Matemwe is a beautiful beach, despite the fact that it isn’t terribly swim-able. There is a large reef off the shore so low tide is quite low, revealing sea urchins colonies almost everywhere. I asked if anyone ate them but apparently uni is not a normal part of the local diet. Perhaps they are a different varietal than the delicious specimens I’ve had. If it was edible I’m sure they would have eaten it; the village Keys’ resort was nestled into was a fishing village and as the tide came in midday so too did the fisherman, sailing in on their dhow, handmade sails billowing in the wind, to sell their catch at the portico next door. Everything from snapper to octopus and squid to sea slugs, if it was edible it was caught and for sale.

We were undecided what to do for our last full day in Matemwe; Judith was itching to do something as she’s not one to sit still for long. Jennifer was content to explore more of the island and the bartender had offered to take Jennifer where-ever she would like to go. We joked that he was going to propose to her if he got her away from us. I had every intention of staying put at Keys and doing a bit of relaxing and working. I wanted to explore the fish market and I had seen a job posting at a big Portland company that was of great interest. The tricky part was that this application process required a video submission in order to be considered. That is certainly one way to narrow down the number of applications! I was to intrigued to let the opportunity pass by but also in a quandary for how to produce a decent video with my limited means in Africa. It was me and my MacBook Air and whatever little spiel I could come up with and I hoped that the viewers would give me a little extra leeway when I disclosed the circumstances. I spent a good portion of the day trying to figure out how to approach this project and twiddling with my laptop in the breezy shade of the main bungalow.

When the fishing boats came in one of the locals came by and asked me if I was interested in seeing the catch. He escorted me out to the boats where I got to see the assortment of beautifully fresh fish they caught. The sea slugs were curious looking and something I’ve never tried. Lots of the young local boys beat the freshly caught octopus into the sand with sticks of driftwood to tenderize them. For the most part the locals ignored me, moving around me as if I was invisible, eager to make their sales and then get on with their day. I hoped that Keys Resort would be buying some of that octopus so I could have some for dinner that evening!

I returned to the main bungalow to resume my work but before long an elderly local man wandered in, fascinated by my laptop. He was hardly the first, quite a few of the locals peered at me and my laptop curiously. I waved him over and we took a few photos together on the Photo Booth application which fascinated him. He didn’t know English and I didn’t know much Swahili but we were able to communicate a little through gestures. I showed him the video of the dolphins and he was amazed and entertained. It was a pretty special memory sharing these new-fangled technologies with that sweet man.

That last night was bittersweet. Jennifer and Judith returned from their adventures, having taken what sounded like a very interesting dalla dalla ride in the back of a pick-up truck version. They had fun and enjoyed getting out for the day and I made some progress with my project so we were prepared to enjoy our last evening with a nice seafood dinner, cold beers, and a few Konyagi and sodas. Konyagi is a clear flavorless liquor like vodka that is common all over Tanzania and Zanzibar. It’s sold in pouches (like Capri Sun!) or bottles and is one of the reasons that when police stop a dalla dalla they always check the driver’s breath - apparently it’s not unusual for them to pour Konyagi into a water bottle, which would certainly explain the driving!

Ally had promised us a bonfire on the beach for our last night and true to his word, Simba built us an awesome one! We dragged chairs out from the restaurant and sat around the fire. At first it seemed like they just expected us to sit alone there but we insisted they join us, all of the chefs and staff that had made our stay so fun. Ally was of course ready to join, already quite buzzed. Everyone eventually floated out and we learned a typical Swahili song about being welcome to Tanzania, or in this case Matemwe. We sang and giggled and toasted to each other (Maisha marefu!) and talked about our local traditions. They had never heard of marshmallows and I promised to send them some so they could roast them on a future bonfire. Ally insisted on finding a star for each of us in the sky; the sky was so black and the stars were brilliant, and I still laugh when I look at the photo I took of Simba and Ally huddled together with Ally pointing out which group of stars we were.

Eventually we all drifted off to bed; Jennifer and I returned to our bungalow as Judith has already turned in earlier. We joked about this being the last night we would need to listen to Fred, who I haven’t mentioned yet. The big beautiful teak bed I slept in apparently was the home to a couple of woodworms. I could hear them at night and I named the loudest Fred. You can’t really see them, they are deeply burrowed into the wood but he was so loud! It sounded like constant gnawing but it sounded like he must have huge teeth! I even googled woodworms to see if I could get an idea of what his teeth looked like but googling bugs is never a very good idea. Judith was horrified and said that she never would have been able to sleep in that bed with Fred chomping away. Once I realized they weren’t going to come crawling out on me I was able to ignore them, although I preferred for Fred to hold off on munching until I at least fell asleep.

I will always remember my friends at Keys’ Bungalows and I hope that one day we do meet again. They were a sweet group of men, genuine and sincerely welcoming. They even cared for a momma cat and her two little kittens in the back hallway of the main bungalow. They took such good care of us and in an usual way it makes me think of the movie The Beach. It wasn’t the crazy party scene Leonardo DiCaprio had when he finally arrived at the beach. That’s hardly the kind of scene we were looking for. But it was a pretty magical place; I can imagine giving up a lot of in exchange for the simplicity, kindness and joy of the people I met in Matemwe.

Stone Town, Zanzibar (posted subsequentially)

When I began planning my trip to Africa I planned it in chunks, focusing primarily on the interim periods in between my volunteer assignments, such as the trip to the capital and Andasibe National Park in Madagascar, or the trip to Uganda. I figured it was easiest to plan my weekend trips once I arrived in country. I knew there was a lot to see in Tanzania and wasn’t certain if I’d be able to find anyone interested in visiting Zanzibar so I didn’t make it a priority. In fact, spending time at Nosy Komba even made me wonder if it was worthwhile visiting Zanzibar after enjoying some of the most beautiful and pristine beaches in the world! But very early on my roommate Judith indicated that she was also very interested in visiting Zanzibar, so it was settled. Before long we had decided on a weekend, Jennifer decided to join us for the trip and I of course jumped into planner mode and started looking up lodging and reviews online.

We dilly dallied a bit on buying our airfare and of course my inner planner was a little worried that it would be hard to get a good airfare. Even though it is the low season for Zanzibar there are limited flights and now that I had my heart set on Zanzibar I struggled with the idea of missing it. Of course everything worked out fine, we got our passports back from TVE with our new work visas, which meant we now qualified for discounts and we booked our tickets.

My time in Africa has taught me to be a little more relaxed about planning. Don’t get me wrong, my personality is Type A, I enjoy planning and dammit I’m really good at it. But now I’m also more comfortable with not planning every little detail and I see the benefit and flexibility it offers you when you allow life to happen. Russ is definitely doing a little happy dance wherever he is as he is reading this…

Our flight left Arusha on a Saturday afternoon so we enjoyed a leisurely morning, although the concept of “sleeping in” is one that I’ve given up on entirely in Africa. It was my first experience at Arusha airport and I found “security” entertaining. There were metal detectors and yes they ran carry on bags through a machine but it was nothing like security in the U.S., it was very relaxed. We sat in an array of broken chairs under a small roofed area looking at the runway, where the majority of planes seemed to be twelve seaters or occasionally something larger - but nothing with jet engines.

Our boarding passes were plastic cards that had writing in dry erase marker and it was time to board when someone held up a plastic boarding card that looked like yours. We followed the attendant out onto the tarmac, handed in our reusable boarding pass (I’m all in favor of recycling) and boarded the plane. With only twelve seats it’s not like you need seat assignments. Our pilot told us to fasten our safety belts, pointed out the exit in the back of the plane that we had entered through and the two emergency exits in the front of the plane (his door and the co-pilots door - although there was no copilot) and off we went!

The flight was about 90 minutes and in a propeller plane you never get very high so it was an enjoyable flight to take in the scenery. When we landed we hopped in a taxi and headed straight to our hotel in Stone Town. Once we actually got into the “city” it was like entering a completely different place - it felt almost Disneyish, well, maybe Epcot-ish, just in that the change was so abrupt, the narrow little streets winding between buildings with so many unique Arabic details, from the intricately carved wooden doors to the archways and bright colors. It was so different from the relatively drab buildings I was accustomed to in Arusha. Then there was the heat, or actually the humidity. Oppressive, sweating while you stand still, humidity. I was so glad that we were staying in Stone Town for just a night and then heading on to the beach where hopefully there would be a sea breeze. 

We checked into our hotel and then wandered taking in the charms of Stone Town, hoping to find a location that would be showcasing tarab, a musical and dance performance that we were eager to see. We peeked into the old fort, the menu for their dinner looking promising and they had live music in the evening as well so we decided to spend our evening there. There was a tourism desk in the atrium of the fort and we decided to book a snorkeling trip for the following morning.

We headed to the beach to catch the sunset and it was spectacular. The sunset itself was so-so, obscured by clouds, but the scene on the beach was so festive and entertaining we had a hard time tearing ourselves away. As far as you could see there were people on the beach and it looked like the majority were locals, not tourists. Families, children, groups of teenagers; strolling, lounging, doing gymnastics. Yes, I slipped gymnastics in there. A group of guys, ranging from young teenagers to adults took over an area where they would run down the beach towards the water and launch into elaborate tumbling routines, from a simple roundoff for the young ones to a series of seemingly never-ending backflips for the seasoned vets.

Despite the magical start to the evening on the beach, the rest of the night was a series of debacles. Truthfully, debacle might be a bit harsh but lets say things didn’t go as planned. Thankfully we had each other and had a good laugh about all of them. From the beach we headed to Fodhori Gardens, a large park along the waterfront area that was known for hosting a variety of food vendors in the evening. We perused the tables and couldn’t resist ordering some grilled octopus as a starter. It turned out to be super tough and chewy and I ended up tossing most of it, piece by piece, to the local stray cats that stalked through the grass. We headed to the fort for dinner and the food ended up being terrible - perhaps the worst I’ve had in any restaurant in my travels in Africa. So bad in fact that we sent it back. The show was equally awful so we didn’t feel too badly about leaving as soon as we settled our bill and ventured off to find another place for dinner, which was far more enjoyable.

The following day we enjoyed breakfast in the rooftop restaurant at our hotel. The sun and the heat was already intense so we were glad we had scheduled our city tour for the morning. We met our tour guide in front of the hotel and he took us on a walking tour of the city, pointing out notable buildings and providing background on the history and events of Stone Town. When we returned to the hotel he insisted that we owed him more than he had quoted us the prior night because the tour ran longer. Of course he hadn’t advised that he was taking us on a longer version and was trying to milk us for more. He thought he had us since he had already taken us on the longer version of the tour. We refused to pay the increased price and paid him what he had quoted us the night before. He wasn’t happy but had no real options. I hoped that the snorkeling tour would be worthwhile.

And it was! We met our operator and took a small boat out to Prison Island, about 30 minutes off the coast. It’s a private island with a resort spread across the small island but we paid a few dollars to visit the Aldabra Tortoises, the last surviving species of giant tortoise, now considered endangered, but who seemed to live happily in the reserve on Prison Island. The space they contained was large and they had a good selection of habitats, from higher, drier, shaded ground to sunnier spots and deep muddy watering holes where they could coat themselves in mud. We fed them some greens and thoroughly enjoyed watching them slowly make their way here and there. Even though tortoises are clearly herbivores I can’t pretend I didn’t get a little nervous when this giant 200+ pound creature lumbered towards me as I sat on the ground offering a spring of greens. It wasn’t like I couldn’t outrun it, it was just so much larger at eye level than I expected!

The snorkeling off Prison island was only fair but it felt great to jump into the crystal clear water and cool off. There wasn’t a large variety of fish and certainly not a large quantity of them in this location but I knew that our snorkeling from our beach location to Mnemba would be spectacular. Our skipper was friendly and flirted with Jennifer while he let her drive the boat. It took me back to those magical boat rides to Nosy Komba - there is something so transformative skimming along the surface of the water, watching the light flickering along in the wake. I hope I don’t forget these details.

Blast from the past

Well, not too distant past - just a few weeks. During the last week or so that I was in Madagascar, Andrew said he was thinking about coming to Tanzania before he headed home to the U.S. I met Andrew and Charlotte the very first day in Madagascar and we all bonded pretty quickly; we all from the NYC area, visiting Africa for the first time and beyond excited to experience all that Madagascar had to offer. I thought it would be fantastic to have Andrew visit when I was in Tanzania but I was skeptical - not of Andrew, but saying it and doing it were different things. We kept in touch through Facebook but I knew Andrew was traveling so his internet access would be spotty. He told me he’d be taking the bus from Dar es Salaam on the 6th. I messaged him my local phone number and asked what his plans were for safari, etc but I hadn’t heard anything for a few days. On the afternoon of the 6th my phone rang and it was Andrew calling from someone else’s phone on the bus, about an hour out from Arusha.

Long story short, Andrew arrived, we caught up on all of our crazy stories from when we had last seen each other, we got his safari sorted out that same night with Frank (a friend of Jessi’s who I had already met) and he left the following morning for a three day safari. I made arrangements to take Thursday off so I could take the bus to Mto wa Mbu to meet up with them. We visited Lake Manyara which definitely primed me for my own safari. We saw an enormous troop of baboons, literally hundreds of them. They were fun to watch because they were so animated and the babies would ride on the backs of the mothers, which reminded me more of little toddlers on pony rides than how I thought I a baby monkey would hold on. We saw hippos far off in the distance amidst a large patch of zebras and wildebeest. Lake Manyara is famous for it’s tree climbing lions; apparently the land is too damp and swampy so the lions prefer to lay in the trees where they can stay dry. I was hopeful that we’d see one but I knew they are rare so I wasn’t too bummed when we didn’t - I figure that will have to wait for my proper safari at the end of my trip. We saw a variety of antelopes but the highlight was definitely the elephants. We stopped next to a creek to watch a small group of elephants and a massive one walked out towards the road and then right by the truck - it was less than six feet away and far bigger than our vehicle. It was inexplicably awesome to witness it so closely.

After Lake Manyara we returned to Mto wa Mbu to visit an organization where artists train homeless young men to paint. There are four distinct styles of African art and they are taught all four but then select whichever they excel at. If it turns out that painting is not their forte, they can assist with prepping canvases, clean-up and general duties. I thought it was such a positive way to help improve these young men’s lives that I knew if I was going to purchase any art in Tanzania it would be from this organization. It took me a while to decide because there were so many great pieces.

After I selected my paintings Frank took us around Mto wa Mbu for a little taste of Chagga culture. We visited a Chagga bar, which was essentially a grass hut with a number of chairs inside, and we sampled ndege, the fermented banana beer popular among the Chagga. It’s made with millet and bananas and has a distinct, but not unpleasant taste. The true form is very low in alcohol so it’s drunk more for nutrients and social purposes. We learned that ndege is always brewed by women and a woman who makes a good, well-liked ndege is said to “have a good hand”. Later in the day we passed by another bar with a number of huts, all of which were empty. Frank told us that the woman who used to own that bar had a good hand but the current owner did not - the best hand in the village was Mama Mzungu, where we had drank our ndege. Note: she is not white as the name Mama Mzungu implies, but her skin is much lighter than most people so that has become how she is known.

After our walk around town Frank told us that we were going to a flea market and then a Maasai village. I had already been to a Maasai village and a flea market did not seem appealing in the least but I was curious to see if this village experience would be different from the last. The flea market turned out to be amazing. The flea market was actually a Maasai market - but not like the one in Arusha for tourists to purchase souvenirs, one run by Maasai for Maasai, selling everything from their traditional sandals to wash basins and cooking supplies to produce. I felt like a bit of an intruder - we were certainly the only mzungus at the market, but we were being shown around by a local Maasai man as his guests. We went to another bar of sorts, which was a tent-like structure with a few low benches, a low table and heap of charcoal, surrounded by pieces of meat, skewered and stretched over pieces of wood. 

Andrew and I each ordered ndege but they only had the bottled kind here. The taste was similar but there was no floating millet layer to work around as with the traditional kind. Then before I really comprehended what was happening, our Maasai host brought a stick loaded with a giant hunk of meat to the table and began to carve chunks of meat off of it with his Maasai sword. I was, of course, encouraged to try it and realized that not doing so probably would have been quite rude. I took a piece and asked what it was as I put it into my mouth, hoping the answer wouldn’t make the process of eating more difficult. I was told that it was leg of lamb but it was a pretty large leg. “Goat?” I inquired. Yes, goat they said. It was honestly the most delicious meat I’ve had during my entire time in Africa. Most of the meat I’ve eaten here has tended to either be overcooked and dry or extremely chewy. This was warm and juicy, apparently kept just far enough from the hot coals to keep it warm without overcooking it. When they first brought the meat over I thought there was no way we could finish it  - but the four of us ate it all, and I was happy to hold the pieces of meat away from the bone while our host carved them off with his sword. After we finished the meat, our host used his sword to cut the bone in half and he finished off the bone marrow. It was honestly one of the most memorable experiences I’ve had to date. Oh yeah, and the bottled ndege is a bit stronger as well, something like 10.5%.

Our visit to the Maasai village was not remarkably different from my first visit. The construction of the bomas was different; instead of having a center door and a “sitting room” the entryway was a tunnel-like hall that wound around from the front to the back of the boma to block the wind. These bomas also seemed to have small holes intentionally poked into the walls to allow more light inside. Much of what I described about the customs and culture of the Maasai during my first post was information that I actually learned during this second visit. The village was much smaller than the first, but the father still had seven different wives and sixty-three children. I bought a beaded bracelet that didn’t look at all traditional but that I knew I’d wear. Andrew couldn’t resist a large wooden club.

I can’t help but reflect on why these people continue to choose this life. Clearly there are opportunities to move away from it and adopt a more normal life, even relatively close to one’s village. I see plenty of Maasai people in Arusha proper, still maintaining some traditions of their dress but integrating aspects of a more modern lifestyle. As an anthropologist I am fascinated that the Maasai have been able to maintain such a traditional lifestyle in close proximity to the modern world. As a woman with and education and opportunities in life I find it difficult to imagine remaining within the boundaries of the Maasai culture. Although, to be fair, while I have seen Maasai women in Arusha, I much more frequently see men and the men are also more likely to have adopted a more blended lifestyle that incorporates aspects of both traditional culture and modern convenience. I have to admit, the idea of conducting a longer term participant-observer ethnography of the Maasai culture is incredibly appealing.