Zanzibar!

We made it to Zanzibar, all of us together again!  It is incredible here. Dar e Salam looks like a city worth having a few adventures in, especially if the adventures involve music and dancing.  We lost our baggage in Nairobi, but hopefully the bags will arrive in Paje tonight.  In the meantime we are walking on the beach in kangas, colorful African cloth provided by our Zanzibar hosts.

The water of Zanzibar is almost as breathtaking as the sand.  It is warm, turquoise and clear.  During the low tide it is easy to wade in the shallow waters out to the coral reef.  Dark skinned women in tattered but beautiful clothing, heads covered in bright-colored scarves, walk for miles through the shallow tide collecting seaweed.  It is harvest time.  They collect the seaweed in old plastic bags and baskets—it will be used to stuff mattresses and for food.  The beach in front of us has four tides (if anyone finds out why, please comment, as we didn’t have enough internet to find the answer.  Maybe the moon of Paje Beach is extra special? I wouldn’t be surprised).  When the tide comes in the water is deep enough to swim and we are able to jump of the crude, traditional canoe like boat, or the dock, and the water is bathtub warm.

The sand here is perfect, pure white and soft; so fine it feel like we are walking through flour that has been sprinkled with pink and purple striped shells and other sea treasures.  It peaceful here, an ideal, tranquil, place to rest and recover.   The food is incredible (although I have been a bit to sick to eat much of it), the staff delightful—happy to shimmy up a coconut tree whenever one of us craves coconut water or meat, catch fresh fish for lunch or recommend a location for swimming with the dolphins.  Basically, aside from the stomach bug I am battling and the bed bugs that seem to follow me wherever I go, the three of us are in heaven.

From our small and cozy bungalow we can watch the sunrise over the water—warm light filtering through the coconut trees, illuminating the hammock, warming our faces and causing the Bougainvillea to glow, rosy and pink.  After watching the sunrise I can go back to sleep until breakfast, where we enjoy just sitting, watching the beach from our outdoor table, sipping coffee and eating fresh fruit.  Then it is time to sit on the beach or go for a long walk, then naps and lunch and to the beach again.

We spent a day in Stonetown, wandering through the narrow streets.  The markets reminded me of Morocco, crowded, colorful, everyone wanting to give you a “special price” for whatever they were selling—shoes, African cloth, spices, baskets, paintings of Masai, plastic jewelry, wooden carvings of giraffes and hippos, fresh and dried fish, bananas and fresh vegetables.  I particularly like walking through the fish and meat market, a bit grotesque, but somehow fascinating.  The men are aggressive, yelling out their prices and weighing their customers orders—octopus, shark, tuna, and rainbow-colored fish I can’t identify.  It reminds me a bit of Pike’s Place Market at home—men dressed in “gum boots,” aprons covered in the sparkle of fish scales, the smell both familiar and exotic and slightly nauseating.

It is an interesting contrast, the blue and white colors and the relaxed and mellow energy of Zanzibar with the red, dusty, hot and stressful life of Aweil.  And yet, I somehow miss my staff and am curious to know what has been happening in maternity during my leave. I feel very lucky to have the privilege of experiencing various parts of Africa and its culture while on this mission!