Zanzibar Nightlife

Alright, so people are always asking me what I do here – what does a regular day/week look like in my life in Zanzibar. And I always feel like I’m really disappointing them when I tell them that it’s actually pretty normal. Because it’s such a tourist destination, Zanzibar can actually be quite expensive and so when you’re looking to control your spending your options can become somewhat limited. Anyway, besides work, my friends and I usually end up doing the same thing almost every weekend, usually in the same places and with the same people (because everybody does the same stuff in the same places so we’re always running into each other). Usually there’s a day on a beach somewhere and then a day in town doing errands or taking it easy. Otherwise, we have a pretty regular weekend night-circuit by now (I think I’ve mentioned before how amazing I find it that people here, although admittedly mostly expats, can drink so much in a country that 99.something % Muslim) – Friday and Saturdays we usually start at Livingstone’s, a bar in the heart of the tourist area with a really nice patio on the beach and tables right on the sand. It’s actually owned by someone in the President’s family…so I’m pretty sure that there are political implications to frequenting that place, but we try not to think about it like that. Apparently the restaurant next door has been refused a liquor license though because they don’t want the bar owned by someone in the President’s family to have too much competition.

Anyway, Livingstone’s is pretty good (albeit expensive) for a few drinks with the usual crowd – there’s live music on Friday nights that pretty good and you can dance. Sometimes people are up on the bar and on the speakers dancing which just adds to the atmosphere of course. From Livingstone’s we usually move to Dharma Lounge – which has more of a club atmosphere. Lots of dancing and it’s right near the bakeries where they work all night to have fresh bread ready for the next morning so when you get hungry while dancing it’s a short and quick walk to the bakery for fresh bread to refuel! Doesn’t really get much better than that.

Another fun place is Migombani (actually it has like a dozen names, among them: Banana Bar and Prince Chris’ Garden…I have no idea why – but it can make it hard to find because everyone knows it by a different name – plus it has like 5 entrances so everyone goes there by a different route)…it’s a local bar that’s actually pretty quiet and laid back…although if you order food be prepared to wait 2 hours to get it. But it’s cheap and the music’s not overpowering so you can hang out and relax with friends and not get hassled too much. Another popular local place is Bottom’s Up where the atmosphere is a bit awkward but the drinks are cheap. But the one time I went there my drink went from about $1 when I ordered to almost $2 when it arrived. The waiter then pretended not to understand me when I informed him of this change and tried to argue it…so I haven’t really been back there. Or if you’re more adventurous you can try Starehe – it’s a local rasta bar (but it’s in the tourist district and the prices reflect this – although I’ve definitely seen them collecting the not quite finished beer bottles and combining them and then selling them for cheap to locals). The entrance is a souvenir shop so you can do your shopping on the way in or out, the food’s not bad and the atmosphere is fun if you’re with a big enough group. You do tend to get hassled a lot though.

And if we’re (or at least if I’m) feeling really adventurous we can go to Bwawani…it’s a hotel just out of town that has a couple clubs. I’ve been there once and lasted all of 15 minutes…it’s more of a local hang out (Livingstone’s and Dharma Lounge are more Expat hangouts) and it’s actually kind of sketchy and seedy. No matter where you’re standing there’s always someone trying to dance up on you from behind…so you have to be constantly moving and yet always staying with friends…It’s also a place that’s notorious for prostitutes (at Dharma Lounge the bouncers supposedly keep them out but you still get them in there). Every once in a while the police will come by and crack down on the prostitutes in the clubs and clear them all up. Apparently a couple weekends ago they did a big sweep of Bwawani and decided that the most efficient way to make sure they got all of the prostitutes would be to take every female out of the place (prostitutes, local girls, Expats, etc) and put them in jail until the next morning. A friend of mine got caught up in the sweep and was not too impressed let me tell you. Another friend went later and he was amazed at how quiet the place was and spent the night wondering why there were so few women in the place.

So anyway, that’s an overview of the weekend hangouts…I kind of feel like I was writing for a guidebook or something but now at least if you ever come to Zanzibar you know where to go to find the nightlife!

No, no. After you...

So, my roommate brought this book with him and added it to the communal library we’ve tried to start up in our house (people can borrow as needed and late fees are to be paid in cookies, chocolate or ice cream). It’s called: Talk to the Hand: The Utter Bloody Rudeness of the World Today, or Six Good Reasons to Stay Home and Bolt the Door, by: Lynne Truss and it’s a book about proper manners and etiquette and how they seem to be lacking in today’s day and age. Reading through it and looking at what types of behaviours she has decided to pick on has gotten me thinking about manners back home versus manners here and how etiquette is so culturally determined. Like, I feel like I have decent manners, I manage to avoid most gross faux pas back home, but here sometimes I feel like I’m making the biggest etiquette blunders! Now, I know it’s justified to a certain extent by cultural differences but when people are politely averting their eyes as you eat with your left hand or when you’re running into people in doorways because both of you think that you have the right of way…it kind of drives home the point that some things, like manners, cannot be taken for granted and must be re-evaluated and relearned everywhere you go.

Anyone who’s ever traveled probably has a story about that time they didn’t know something and ended up offending their host, coworker, colleague, random stranger on the street…whether it’s because you left food on your place, didn’t leave food on your plate, refused seconds, didn’t return a greeting properly or used the wrong hand, there’s always something you didn’t know (or temporarily forgot) that puts you in an awkward position and makes you feel a little bit, or maybe even a whole lot, culturally insensitive. I think they call this the learning/adjustment process or something. Anyway, here are a few of my etiquette blunders so far.

The right hand. In Zanzibar, as in most places where Islam is the dominant religion, it is proper to eat and to conduct the majority of exchanges with your right hand only as it is seen to be clean. I still remember the mortification when, while eating dinner at our country coordinator’s house during the holy month of Ramadan, I reached for a dish with the wrong hand. Oh the humiliation. But then once you have the food on your plate, assuming that you gathered it with the right hand, how then do you eat it? Some things, like vegetables are easy enough…but half a chicken? Getting the meat off with only one hand can be quite a challenge. Although I’ve since been told that for difficult foods like chicken, you are allowed to hold down a bit of it with the left hand while you eat with your right hand.

There have also been several occasions where walking down the street I’ve waved to people with my left hand. Usually it’s because I’m carrying something in my right and I just forget. They’re very tolerant of it but they usually get this strange look on their face. And then of course there’s the juggling act I go through every time I try to buy something. It’s very impolite, even offensive, to take anything with your left hand or to pay with your left hand…so what to do? I accept the purchase with one hand while simultaneously trying to hand the vendor money at the same time all the while balancing whatever else I’m carrying and trying not to drop it all. I still have not mastered the trick for this.

Doorways. I am so used to men letting me walk through a doorway first, it’s almost second nature now to expect them to give me the right of way. Here though, the men always walk first and so for the first two months or so I was constantly running into people in doorways because we would both try to go first. I am getting the hang of this one, but there’s always this really awkward moment when sometimes I forget that I’m walking with another foreigner and he will hang back to let me go through the doorway first while I simultaneously hang back to let him go first…and then no one gets through the door and there’s this really awkward pause when no one knows what to do...

Greetings. People are constantly greeting you here. Everywhere you walk in town, people are saying Jambo, Habari, Mambo, etc. At first I found this really taxing because I’m not used to so many people talking to me when I’m running to the store and then there’s always that feeling that they’re trying to talk to you because they want something from you. But greetings are really important here, they are lengthy and there are rules and it’s really rude to not answer. So I was in the shamba (it means farm, but we use the expression – “going to the shamba” to mean going to the field for a visit or to do some work) a few weeks ago and this lady approached me and greeted me. So I returned the greeting and then got distracted by something and started to turn away. Which prompted her to turn to my colleague and ask why I wasn’t completing the greetings properly and using the correct ones. It turns out that while I had replied sijambo (I’m fine – literally I have no problems) to her hujambo (you’re fine? – literally you have no problems?) I had failed to continue the greetings and specifically to use shikamoo (it’s a greeting that indicates respect). It was a little bit awkward, but luckily I was given a second chance to restart the greetings and to carry them out properly.

So those are a few of my blunders and awkward moments so far. I’m sure I’ve made many more that I haven’t even noticed and haven’t been brought to my attention yet. And I’m sure I’ll make many more before my time here is up. Good times, but I don’t think I’m quite ready to stay home and bolt the door.

Fieldwork in Tumbatu

This last weekend I made a short work trip to Tumbatu Island – it’s a small island off the north coast of Unguja (the main island in the Zanzibar archipelago)…and a little bit off of the beaten track to say the least. My Rough Guides book describes Tumbatu as a “dagger-shaped [island]…whose inhabitants are famed for the pride, aloofness and lack of hospitality when dealing with visitors”. The residents of Tumbatu claim to be descendants of the ancient Persian kings who came to island from what is present day Iraq and then intermarried with people who came from the mainland to create today’s Tumbatu people. They actually ruled much of Unguja from their island fortress and have since maintained a high degree of isolation from the mainland.

So I was a little bit nervous about going at first…not really sure what kind of reception I would get, but I was going for work, with an enumerator so I figured that it’s actually tourists they don’t really like and since I had work to do I didn’t really count as a tourist in this case. And in fact, I found the people to be extremely welcoming. I met with the local level government when we arrived and then was shown to the house where I would be staying. They had obviously put me in one of the villages nicer houses – it was made of bricks instead of mud and coral stone, and we even had solar powered lights. Because they didn’t want to be dependent on Zanzibar or mainland Tanzania for electricity, all power comes from solar panels on the island – which only a few houses are connected to.

The first day was spent conducting group discussions, wealth ranking exercises and individual interviews with heads of households from the village. We met with village leaders, single mothers accompanied by children whose bellies were distended from malnutrition who told us that during hard times they maybe have one cup of tea a day, we had interviews interrupted by flocks of chickens and wherever we conducted the interviews we always drew a crowd of spectators who all seemed more interested in just staring at me than in the interviews themselves – all of this made quite an experience. I learned that land in Tumbatu is mainly coral soil, which is very thin and therefore not very good for agriculture which means that they have to import a lot of food from Unguja which is expensive and considering there are very few jobs in Tumbatu (the village is basically all houses – I think I saw one small store) they don’t have currency to buy food.

After a really early night, it gets dark at 6:30pm here and I didn’t want to deplete my host’s batteries by running the solar powered lights too long reading (I think it was lights out at like 9pm) and a really hot night (no fans!) I was allowed to visit a nearby madrassa (preschool) to watch some of the lessons…but I think I was too much of a distraction because as soon as they saw me the kids stopped whatever they were doing and just stared. It was actually a strange feeling, being the only foreigner on an entire island that really doesn’t get that many visitors. I definitely got a lot of attention. Not that it was hostile or anything, but the intensity of their attention, and not having anywhere else to deflect it, was extremely wearing. We then had a few more meetings and interviews and then took some times to visit some of the ruins on the island. We saw the remains of a palace – only the basic outline is still visible and the ruins of a mosque.

And then it was back on the boat and back to Unguja. Tumbatu definitely had a certain aesthetic appeal – it was extremely quiet, quite green because it’s the short rainy season right now, and just little things, like how the paths and roads through the village are made of coral stone and seashells, but there were also many drawbacks. The level of poverty was quite intense, the language barrier also made things difficult. Not that my Kiswahili is all that good anyway, but they made a point of making it clear to me that they don’t speak Kiswahili because they have their own dialect (the claim is that it’s a purer form of Kiswahili, because it is definitely related) and also their isolation made for a sometimes awkward experience (an interesting note, is that the two villages on the island are even isolated from one another – they are only a few miles apart and yet have developed different dialects). It was definitely an experience and I am glad that I went but I have to admit that I was really happy to be back in town Sunday afternoon.

to see pictures of Tumbatu please go to:
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2105305&l=52399&id=122506550

Sorry for not writing more….but it’s really hot!

So, we are entering the summer season here in Zanzibar. It is currently 30 degrees Celsius and it is not even 8:30 in the morning. It’s kind of gross. No wait, it’s really gross. And never mind the actual temperature, the humidity is climbing (the relative humidity is getting to around 70% now)! Even my co-workers think it’s hot out (even my co-worker Nassor, who wore a coat almost every day of July and August because it was a chilly 23 degrees). I’m told that in fact these temperatures are abnormal for this time of year, but these statements bring me little comfort as I huddle beneath the fan in my office.

I’m also told that we’re waiting for a big storm and that once it rains it will cool off and the humidity will decrease. I’ve now added the BBC weather feed to my favorites menu so that I can keep track of when it will rain. But it says it’s supposed to rain every day (except Wednesday) this week and I haven’t seen any rain and it’s still hot! So we wait. Energy levels are at an all time low…people drag themselves to the nearest patch of shade and collapse. My office building is eerily silent as no one has the energy to move or make conversation (never mind work). And the sad thing is it’s only November. The hottest months (or so I’m told) are December and January. So we still have a ways to go before it starts cooling off again. I’m saving my air conditioning, I haven’t used it yet in the office and I turn it on for a maximum of half an hour at home, either when I exercising or before bed to cool off my room before trying to sleep. I’m hoping that this means when it really gets hot I’ll really appreciate the air conditioning and it will make the days more bearable.


And maybe, if I’m really lucky, I’ll even acclimatize. 30 degrees will feel like nothing…But I guess I won’t really know until July…when it’s a nippy 23 degrees (and only 50% humidity) and I feel like I need a jacket. Except, I don’t think I brought one…um Mom? Could that be added to the list for the next care package?

“Clean up, aisle 4…there’s another mzungu (white foreigner of general European descent) from Zanzibar drooling over the cereal selection”

This past weekend I decided that I needed a break from Zanzibar (some might consider that odd considering this is a holiday destination of choice for so many…but after 4 months it is a bit wearing) and so, along with a couple of friends, I took off for a weekend in Dar es Salaam. Now, as I was initially planning this trip, I was thinking about all of the different cultural experiences I could have – so Bagamoyo on the coast, the old market Kariakoo…however the weekend seemed to have a mind of its own that somewhat took over and when it was all over I discovered that I had spent an inordinate amount of time in grocery stores…4 visits to be precise…in less than 48 hours.

After an only somewhat bumpy ferry ride (it always makes me a bit nervous when the crew starts handing out small plastic bags) and a daladala (public minibus) ride from hell – seriously they had so many people crammed on that bus you could barely breathe and you were constantly being hit by people’s backpacks which they weren’t considerate enough to take off before getting on the bus! And because the traffic was so bad we were barely moving! I mean, you can put up with the discomfort if you’re at least getting somewhere but putting up with it and being stuck in traffic had me almost at the limit of my endurance.

But our destination more than made up for the discomfort. Our very first stop was Mlimani City – a mall outside of the town centre. After an all you can eat buffet for $6 we hit up Shop Right for some candy and chocolate (visit one) and then we treated ourselves to the new James Bond movie, at the largest screen in East Africa! But seriously, the movie was good and there isn’t really a theatre on Zanzibar (well there is, but it’s only open sometimes and the movies are really outdated) and to get to see a new release – before it’s even out back home I hear, was definitely a treat! After the movie we found our way (with only some small difficulties – we had our tuktuk driver going back and forth up and down this road like 3 times before we found the right house, he was none too impressed, but we did leave a tip) to where we were staying. We had arranged to stay with the friend of a friend and were prepared to make do and crash wherever we could. We were however welcomed at the gate of a very nice compound, we were each given our own bedroom and then despite the late hour our host insisted that we indulge in a drink and a midnight swim in his pool. Can’t really complain about any of that!

Saturday morning started with a swim in our host’s pool – definitely a great way to start any day! Of course I had to check the pool for snakes and lizards before getting in but hey, this is Africa right? And then a great breakfast of fresh fruit and homemade yoghurt (our host issued a warning about this yogurt but we decided to try it anyway and it was really good…a bit runny and apparent the guy who supplies it makes it in a whisky bottle). Now Saturday was supposed to be a day full of authentic Dar experiences – so of course the first thing we did was head to a place called Shoppers Plaza. Now this is like Expat city – there’s a cute little coffee shop and a book store and clothes stores with really expensive clothes…but I have to say that the highlight was definitely the grocery store. You may find all of these grocery store visits a bit odd, but the grocery stores in Zanzibar are somewhat lacking with regards to number, size and selection. I think we spent a good hour (visit two) in there marveling at the cheese selection and the pork and the candy (they had 70% cocoa Lindt dark chocolate bars!!!!! For like $7 – needless to say I was completely devastated) and the cereal (honey nut cheerios! For like $12 a box)…a little bit of heaven I have to say.

My friend and I then tried to be a bit more “real” as it were and take the daladala to our next stop. After completing a nice big circle around town and ending right back up at Shoppers Plaza we decided to forget that idea and to go with the tuktuk. Then, I am somewhat embarrassed to say, we headed straight back to Mlimani City. We indulged in some Mr. Price shopping (big box store, with decently priced new clothes) and Game (think something like Walmart or Zellers) and the Shop Right (again, because we just couldn’t get enough of looking around those places and ogling the selection of goods – I have this feeling my first grocery shopping trip when I get home is going to see me wandering aimlessly around the store in complete awe of the choices we have there – visit three).

And then Sunday was really more of the same. We slept in, swam and then headed into city centre to wait for our ferry. We went to Steers for lunch (fast food joint), I got a cheese burger – plastic cheese but you take what you can get, made a quick stop at the next grocery store we passed because I just could resist (visit four) and then spent the afternoon in the air conditioned lobby lounge of a very nice hotel in town. And then it was back on the boat to our little island. Home sweet home – it has everything we need, except for a lamentable lack of selection in the very few grocery stores.

You know you're far away from home when...

The thing about being overseas for an extended period of time is that eventually the novelty wears off and life become very normal and entirely routine – a different routine to be sure, but routine nonetheless. But then, every once in a while someone says something or you stumble across something in the street that reminds you that you are, in fact, far away from home. Because today is the official (that’s right official!) half way mark of my contract (but not of my stay here – I’m not sure when I’m coming back yet), here are a few of the things that have jumped out at me to serve as reminders.

“Mchisi kama ndizi” – This is a really popular saying that people like to throw out there when they meet you on the street. To your face at least they translate this one as cool like a banana (sometimes they add in tha fridgi…like a banana in the fridge)…but mchisi definitely means crazy so…

You can put sugar in anything – they cook pasta with sugar here. I had a nice argument with my Kiswahili teacher over whether or not dinner noodles are supposed to be sweet. He was saying that he can’t eat noodles without sugar. I think they’re gross.

I was once approached as I was walking home by a guy who insistently tapped me on the arm and when I turned around, said: “Hey…hey!...I have money…can I have you?” (I guess that the obvious reply here is: how much money and what currency are we talking?)

“But what if she says no?” – Asked by a foreign volunteer who had just asked a Tanzanian girl to marry him.
“Then you say yes. Very firmly. And then you get married.” – The reply from a local friend.
*Something that’s interesting to note is that in Kiswahili there are two verbs for marriage. For men, the verb is “to marry”, for women, the verb is “to be married”.

I was walking home the other evening through the alleys of Stone Town and literally almost stepped on a dead rooster because it was lying in the middle of the street. I have no idea why it was lying dead in the middle of the street, but there were 4-5 men just sitting on stoops around it chatting…I have no idea what was going on there.

When the only time I walk at a “normal” pace is when I’m sick – I had a massive headache a couple of months ago, felt really really bad and that walk home was the only time I wasn’t rushing past people.

I recently needed a break from Zanzibar so I visited Dar es Salaam. Taking the ferry back I happened to look at my ticket stub and read the waiver printed inside the ticket. Here’s a summary: Prior to the sailing the company shall be entitled to at any time to delay or cancel the sailing for reason of force majeure which shall include, without limitation, war or threat of war, roils, civil commotion, disaster, act of God, terrorist activity, natura or nuclear disaster, fire, technical problems with transport... – I’m pretty sure I haven’t seen some of those list items on BC Ferries tickets.

When its mid-October and you go to the department stores (in Dar of course, we should be so lucky in Zanzibar!) and notice that they already have ALL of their Christmas decorations up! I mean, what happened to waiting until after Halloween!??! And then you realize that maybe they don’t really do Halloween here, so I guess that’s a pretty good excuse…As a side note, I was talking to a Peacecorps friend about this and he told me that in the states they have to wait until after their Thanksgiving so they don’t get Christmas decorations until end of November!

A friend and I were cooking a while ago – we were trying to bake a fish, so we braved the fish market and found one we like and took it home. As we wrapped it up in foil we were discussing how we would know when it was cooked and she (and I have no idea where she learned this) informed me that: “when the eyeballs turn white it means that the fish is cooked”. Now, I have no idea if this is actually true, and after we’d cooked it she definitely described it as “tasting like the fish market smells” so maybe that’s not the golden rule in baking fish or anything, but it’s still something I’ve never heard mentioned back home.

Halloween!

So, today is Halloween and we will definitely be celebrating in style here! People are coming up with all sorts of crazy costumes based on what they brought with them and what they can find in the local markets and everything. It should be pretty cool to see how creative some people can be!

But as I was trying to come up with costume ideas I realized that in many ways, there is way more to think about here than there is at home! So, after agonizing for like a whole week about what I’m going to be for Halloween, here’s a brief summary of the decision-making process:

First, you can’t just go to a costume store – there is no place to by ears or devil horns or fangs or even facepaint…we talked about trying to make it, but would food colouring stain you skin too? Plus I don’t think I’ve ever seen food colouring here. We thought about henna…but I don’t think I want to wear my Halloween facepaint for 4-6 weeks – although this idea is definitely something to remember for April Fools day next year!

Second, you have to be a bit more careful about making sure your costume is at least kind of culturally appropriate. One friend suggested Charlie Chaplin as a potential costume which is a really good idea…but upon further discussion we decided that the pretty conservative Muslim society here might not look favourably upon cross-dressing, even if it is for the venerable tradition of Halloween. The same goes for many of the guys here who thought it would be fun to dress up in a buibui (the robes worn my Muslim women here).

Third, unless you plan on taking a taxi everywhere, and even then, your costume has to be appropriate for walking around town while you’re getting to the parties. I thought about a genie costume (cause you can totally get the pants here and I think they’re hilarious) but the little top might have posed some problems…I mean, I guess I could have worn a sweater, but didn’t you used to hate it when your parents made you wear a sweater or coat over your costume to go out and it just totally ruining the whole effect of your costume???

Fourth, and this I think is universal, but you have to be able to dance in your costume…for me this meant that the ballgown I was thinking about borrowing from my friend was out.

And finally, it’s getting really really hot here! So your costume really has to breathe or else you’ll stifle yourself, and that’s no way to spend Halloween!

Anyway, there are some of the things I learned in the last week or so as I pondered over my costume options. I can’t really say that I came up with anything brilliant but I will have my camera on me tonight so I’ll make sure to get pictures of any great costumes that people came up with!

So Happy Halloween everyone! Have fun and stay safe and eat lots of candy!

*Oh and the picture is from pumpkin carving last year…I didn’t get to do it this year. Partly because the pumpkins here are weird, and partly/mostly cause I have yet to find a knife here that would be up to the task. But I hear that my family did a good job picking up the slack so Kudos! And send me pictures of the pumpkins!

My First Zanzibari Wedding

Weddings for me always conjure up images of white dresses and lots of flowers and family members of both the bride and groom coming together to celebrate. Well as I approach the half way mark of my stay here I was invited to my first Zanzibari wedding and couldn’t help but notice a few differences. Now, when I say I was invited to a wedding, I should clarify. I was invited to the reception portion of the wedding – from what I understand, the men attend the actual wedding ceremony where the exchange of vows takes place and the reception is attended by the women.

My friend called my just after 8pm and told me to rush home and meet her because she had gotten me a ticket to the wedding…So I rush home and she meets me with a bag full of dresses and makeup and bangles and earrings…it was great! I got to put on a dress and jewelry and high heels (first time I’ve dressed up in 4 months!) and then we rushed out.

As we walk in we are greeted by loud traditional taarab music and women dancing in front of the band. The party started at 8pm, and we were over an hour late but people were still arriving and while the stage was set up the bride and groom hadn’t yet arrived. The bride and groom are supposed to arrive at the reception once everyone else has arrived and settled…and when you take into account Swahili/Africa time that means that the bride didn’t arrive until around 11pm. Waiting was a lot of fun though. We danced in front of the band, I had to watch the other women carefully to get the hang of the style of dance – it’s kind of a swaying motion, and waving money in the air (I think it’s for good luck) and I tried to imitate the shrill trilling sounds that the women here are so adept at making (and failed miserably) but I think most of them had fun watching me try.

The groom arrived half an hour or so after the bride and they posed for pictures with everyone at the reception in different groups. I somehow found myself in the Zanzibar Memories (store in the tourist area of Stone Town where my friend and the bride had once worked together) group picture – which was a bit random.

More dancing followed but my feet were seriously starting to hurt! I had been talking to a friend the other day about how I wanted to dress up and wear heels…but I guess after 4 months of flats my feet aren’t used to them anymore. 2 hours of dancing in 4 inch stilettos and my feet were not feeling so good.

At the end the servers came around and started collecting tickets and handing out goodie bags! They were full of delicious cakes and treats – it was great! So all in all it was an amazing cultural experience – definitely a cultural highlight and hopefully one I can repeat (after I’ve had time to practice my dancing vocalizations)!

Not Applicable

I am doing some background research for an upcoming project (funding pending of course – they keep saying next week) on food vulnerability in Zanzibar, particular in the North A district of Unguja (Zanzibar Island). As part of this research I recently read the 2004/05 Household Budget Survey. Full of fascinating figures of course and the numbers and sometimes even the language are very indicative or trends and culture on the islands.

For example about half of Zanzibaris live below the basic needs poverty line which means that they do not have sufficient income to meet their daily needs. And 13% of Zanzibaris do not have to resources to meet their daily nutritional requirements. The food poverty line (how much money the average adult would need to feed themselves properly for a month) is about 12, 573 Tanzanian Shillings (Tsh) – this works out to about 450Tsh a day for food (the exchange rate to the Canadian Dollar is around $1-1100Tsh). To put this in perspective (and keep in mind that I pay mzungu – foreigner – prices for everything) we’re budgeted about 10,000Tsh a day to eat. A meal at a local restaurant or street stall would usually cost us around 2,000-4,000 shillings (that’s like rice or bread with some vegetables or beans or a bit of meat) and a meal at a tourist restaurant will cost 6,000Tsh and up. For 450Tsh I could get a small loaf of bread (300Tsh), or a couple mshikake (beef skewers) – but definitely not enough for a meal. A mango or an avocado costs are 400Tsh depending on the season and a kilo of tomatoes, cucumbers or bananas is around 1,000Tsh.

In terms of age and health, only around 2.8% percent of the population is over 65 years old (the average life expectancy in Tanzania is only 51.5 years – keeping in mind that this number is affected by things like HIV/AIDS infection rates) and the average age of the population is 17.5 years. Another fun fact is that the major infectious diseases include malaria (of course) and the plague (which my Aunt who was a nurse assures me is treatable with antibiotics these days).

Another thing that the survey looked at was main economic activity classified by rural and urban area and also by gender – so categories like livestock keeping, fishing, tourism, government, self-employed, etc. They also included the category of housewife and what really struck me about this category is that not only is the language indicative of cultural understandings of gender roles here: housewife instead of homemaker, but in the male column, next to this category it simply says: N/A. Not even 0%, but actually Not Applicable.

Eid ul-Fitr

Wednesday and Thursday this week were Eid ul-Fitr – the end to Ramadan (unless of course you choose to do the 6 bonus days of fasting) so we are officially allowed to eat during the day and on the streets again! – Plus we got a two-day holiday in the middle of the week. The celebrations started at approximately 6am Wednesday morning with an hour long call to prayer – or maybe they just broadcast the entire prayer on the loudspeaker, I’m really not sure.

Wednesday a friend and I decided to celebrate the day in the traditional way (at least for women) by doing some serious baking. Since so many shops were closed it was a close call getting all of the necessary ingredients but we managed and armed with an appliance that is basically one or two steps up from a toaster oven, baking ingredients and the Peacecorps cookbook we managed to produce some pretty good banana bread and some amazing peanut butter cookies (like better than I’ve ever made at home!). Afterwards, full of banana bread, peanut butter cookies, a definite sense of accomplishment and a strong conviction that we definitely need to do this more often, we decided to visit the fair that was being set up in a nearby park. Walking everyone in their new clothes and new shoes and all of the little girls in matching dresses we headed through the field to where the stalls were being set up.

Basically it was a lot of food (can't argue with that) some stalls to buy toys (some pretty good deals actually) and some games tables (I doubled my money – all 15 cents that I put in!). It wasn’t quite going all out yet but there were lots of groups of people sitting around and chatting and eating and people were really relaxed and seemed to be enjoying the holiday.

That night we further celebrated Eid in a decidedly much less traditional way (see some delicious roast pork and wine…) and didn’t end up crawling into bed until around 4am.

But the next day – or evening I guess we dragged ourselves up and out and decided to re-visit the fair to see it at night when it’s supposed to be really good. It was definitely busier and louder – people and kids everywhere and all of the good stalls were up and running and while I wasn’t able to track down any cotton candy they did have some delicious looking roast corn on the cob as well as lots of seafood and mishkake (kebabs). They also had two discos for the kids set up and some of those inflatable rooms that you can jump in! We walked through, admiring everyone in their finery and checking out one of the discos (we got some nice stares in there) and checked out the games tables again – at least I think they were games…one was definitely different types of plastic dishes with numbered stickers on them…I wasn’t really sure if it was a game or if people were just buying dishes…

And then it was time to go home and back to bed. Work Friday and then weekend, not a bad week all in all and we don’t have to hide that we’re eating anymore during the day! Plus many of the women in my office brought in Sikuku (holiday) cakes and treats so I’ve been stuffing my face all day. I’m thinking I should whip up a batch of those peanut butter cookies to bring in to share next week…start putting to rest those rumours circulating in the office (I have no idea why) that I'm not a proper woman or something because I don't cook. These cookies are going to blow them all away!

I ate a fish head – even the eyeballs…

As you may have surmised from earlier blog posts, September is the holy month of Ramadan where Muslims fast between fast between sunrise and sunset (and by fast I mean no food, no water and no sex). At the end of each day after the call to prayer Muslims break fast with Iftaar (also known as Fotari). Our Aga Khan Foundation coordinator was nice enough to invite us into his home to join him and his family for Iftaar and it was quite an experience. First, we ate just with him as his wife and children ate elsewhere, I gather there were a lot of children over that night so they kept them separate. We sat on the floor and ate with our hands and did we ever eat. The food was amazing!

There were potatoes and beef and these mash potato things that are just amazing and noodles (but cooked with sugar which I have to say I still find a little strange), and these dough balls with honey (amazing!) and a maize porridge (kind of reminds me of congee) and fried fish – like the whole fish. Now I took the fish not even thinking about eating the head but then I glanced over at me host’s plate and saw that all that was left was the backbone. So I was like: “shoot, now I have to eat the whole thing too!” But I wasn’t really sure how to go about doing that – like do you put the whole thing in your mouth or take bites or what? Thankfully, my host noticed my dilemma and kindly offered to show me how to eat a fish head. His advice: small bites and chew slowly. And you start at the back of the head and then the bottom and save the top of the head for last. Not bad actually, although the eyeball was a bit squishy.

The House of Comforts

So the new intern arrived two weeks ago and one week ago we moved into our new place. Now usually I hate moving with an unparalleled passion…it makes me very grumpy. But this time I was actually really looking forward to it (mostly because I was tired of losing the battle over the soap with the mice in my first apartment). My new home is right behind the central market – great location, right next to all the fresh produce and the grocery store (that actually just got a huge shipment of packaged chocolate chip cookies!). And of course it has the obligatory Mosque close by…and it being the holy month of Ramadan, we get a lovely extended version of the call to prayer at 5am…and as a bonus feature there’s an Anglican Church on the other side that rings its bells at 6am. Gotta love being so central!

But there are no mice (at least that I’ve seen – knock on wood) and while there may be birds in the ceiling you can’t hear them that much. Plus I now have a kitchen and a fridge (although with the market so close there’s not really any point in stocking up on anything because you can buy it fresh every day – so the contents of our fridge consist of some vegetables, like eight 1.5L bottles of water, juice and yoghurt…and chocolate of course). There’s also an oven-type appliance (something of a cross between a toaster oven and an oven) and my new goal in life is to learn how to make cookies in it. Unfortunately you can’t get chocolate chips here but since my Dad was nice enough to write me an email about how he was going to bake his amazing peanut butter cookies (that was really nice of you Dad!) I thought I’d try too, just to show him up. I’m thinking peanut butter cookies with a big chunk of Cadbury chocolate in the middle of each one…I’ll let you know how it goes (unless they don’t work at all, in which case forget that you read all of this).

Plus there’s a shower in my new place so last Saturday I got my first real shower in over 2 months – it was magical. AND the day after we moved in they installed a heater so I got a hot shower, I feel so spoiled! But then I realized that the hot shower is too hot and not really all that comfortable because it turns the bathroom into a sauna and you overheat really badly so you have to finish with a blast of cold water. But whatever, I have hot water.

When we discussed the terms of our stay and our rent with them they asked us what we wanted to change in the house – aka furniture, appliances, decorations…not wanting to hurt anyone’s feelings we told them that the place was great (which it is) and that we were happy with it the way it was. The decorations though are definitely something – they totally add to the character of the house. Our living room is graced with a giant picture of some Tanzanian beauty queen or someone like that and right next to it is a lovely picture of our landlady, all dressed up including the henna designs. To the right of the paintings is an awesome statue of a camel that we made sure to keep well displayed since it’s pretty awesome and on the opposite wall is an awesome sign that reads: Beit al Raha, literally translating to: House of Comfort (or bliss, contentment, enjoyment, entertainment, joy, peace, quiet, and rest). We tried to make our house live up to its name (or at least some of them) our first night there and had some people over – a full house plus a box of Konyagi baggies (papaya alcohol that often comes in 250ml bags – very classy) certainly seemed to do the trick.

The family lives right next us and they are so nice – and super relaxed and casual (as evidenced by the bottles of Bacardi and champagne that we found in our fridge to first day – at first we though they were gifts for us but when we checked they took them back pretty quickly). But they brought us traditional fotari food (for breaking fast during Ramadan) on our first day and they are so friendly that it’s just great. I try to practice my Kiswahili with them and they’re nice enough to humour me but I’m pretty sure they don’t understand half of what I’m saying. But sometimes they understand me and reply, but then I have to idea what they say back so I just smile and nod.

And so begins the House of Comforts stage of my journey here.

So you're in Zanzibar...and what are you doing?

I’ve had a lot of questions about what exactly I’m doing here in Zanzibar (and yes, it is more than lying on tropical beaches and swimming in the warm waters of the Indian Ocean…) so I thought I’d use this blog to describe a little bit about my job.

Through the Aga Khan Foundation Canada I was placed at the NGO Resource Centre (NGO RC) Zanzibar. The NGO RC is a project of the Aga Khan Foundation and works to improve civil society and organizational capacity (so strengthen civil society and the environment in which it operates), primarily on the two islands of Zanzibar (Unguja and Pemba) but they have also recently expanded their operations to two provinces on the mainland and hope to continue this expansion until they reach all of Tanzania.

Permanent staff in my office include: Director, Deputy Project Director, two project officers, a monitoring and evaluation officer, and the administrative assistant. Beyond that there is myself, a local intern from Tanzania mainland and a VSO (volunteer) from the UK.

My official title is Communications Officer, although that’s not quite accurate. My job is to support the work of the project officers as well as the Directors. So far I have written an entire project proposal (including logical framework analysis!) for submission to Google.Org (the foundation arm of Google) for a project to geo-reference water and sanitation service provision in Zanzibar (we’re still waiting to hear back). I have completed background research for an upcoming project on food vulnerability in Zanzibar (funds pending). I have also produced a communications document that will explain who the organization is and what is does that will be distributed to stakeholders and potential donors. There’s also a lot of editing work to be done because English writing skills are somewhat low here. Most recently I worked on a research paper on the dynamics of community participation in local governance structures in Zanzibar. My organization also maintains a database for civil society organizations which I am responsible for updating and monitoring. So those are the major projects that I have been working on.

My organization also has a strong focus on youth and development so I have visited the Zanzibar Youth Forum to talk to people there and to discuss upcoming projects and events. With the help of the NGO RC the Zanzibar Youth Forum just recently lobbied successfully for the creation of the first National Youth Policy in Zanzibar.

As for projects in progress, I have been asked to develop some ideas for a compilation of partnership stories as told by organizations affiliated with the NGO RC. This would involve interviews and discussions to get the stories and then finding a creative and accessible way of making them available to the public – could be very interesting! I am also developing an annual report for my organization since they don’t have one yet and I think that it would be beneficial for them to have one so that they can distribute it to donors and stakeholders every year. And we’re also waiting for funding to be approved for various projects and once things are confirmed I’m hoping to get involved in the development and implementation of these projects (especially the Google one because how cool would it be to work with Google?!?!).

So there you have it, it’s kind of a little bit of a lot of things, but such, as I understand it, is life of an employee of a non-government organization. So far it’s been an interesting journey learning to work in a different country with a working and office culture that is significantly different from home.

"Ladies Only"

In my eternal quest (well at least off and on quest) to stay at least somewhat healthy while traveling – especially since living overseas tends to give me huge cravings for burgers, chips, sodas and chocolate – I sometimes find myself in some somewhat strange situations. I found myself in one such situation about a week ago…looking down a dimly lit hallway, listening the hum of machinery and wincing just slightly as Aqua’s “Barbie Girl” blared from overhead speakers (just slightly because it’s one of their favorite songs here and you hear it everywhere and I think/hope that I’m becoming numb to it by now). Where am I? Well this is the gym.

First of all, just finding a gym or place to exercise was a quest in and of itself. Stone Town is a tourist town I thought to myself at first, how hard can it be to find a gym? The first few people I asked got this “really amused but like they were trying to contain it” sort of smirk on the faces when I asked them where I could find a gym….they suggested I try the hotels. But apparently none of the hotels here feel that they need to have a gym so that was a dead end (they wouldn’t even let me pay to use their pools!) so I asked around some more and had some people outright laugh at me and not even bother to answer. I tried looking around to see if there was a place where people run or jog but the dominant trend here seems to be that boys and men can run around but you don’t see women doing that. You don’t even see women or girls at the soccer fields watching the boys play…so that was another dead end.

My last attempt led us (I somehow formed a group of girls looking to exercise) about 15 minutes out of town (walking) to a run down super sketchy looking hotel where we were told we would find a fitness centre. And then right after being told this we were also told that under no circumstances should we be anywhere near there after dark. After poking around a bit we did finally find it and we went inside to look around. The first impression is quite promising actually (minus the blaring Barbie Girl song): a big open room, exercise equipment, fans (a totally necessary appliance) but then we take a closer look and realize that there are no women to be seen…although there were quite a few men, many of whom came over to side of the gym to try and strike up a conversation as we walked past…awkward!

We talk to the guy at the front desk and ask him if we can work out here and he promptly points us to the end of the hall. So we wander down the aforementioned dimly lit hallway and come to a door with the sign: “ladies only”. We go through the door and find another narrow hallway with a small room with some exercise equipment and a few women walking on the treadmills and pedaling on the bikes. It’s a segregated gym we realize, we have to work out at the back of the building behind closed doors so that nobody sees us. This is fine, we have women only gyms back home too and sometimes they do provide a much more comfortable atmosphere for working out. What I’m struck by though is that while the men’s side of the gym is large and open with many machines, the women’s side is a narrow room with hardly any equipment and half of it broken and the fans don’t seem to go past the lowest speed setting (first thing we tried to do!). But fine, I wait for my turn on the treadmill and hop on, and then almost go flying off as I hit a bump. The equipment is apparently quite old and it felt like running on a bumpy road where you always have to watch where you’re putting your feet. But it felt so good to exercise after over a month of not really doing any cardio that I soon found my rhythm and was able to release my death grip on the hand rails and eventually managed to get a pretty good workout.

Our second visit was even more successful. We arrived and started out on the exercise machines but then all of these women began arriving and hastily stripping off their buibuis (the robe-style garments that the women wear that cover them from head to feet) revealing exercise clothes underneath and then filing into the adjoining room chatting very animatedly. So we decided to follow them to see what was going on and we ended up joining the aerobics class. For about 45 minutes in the afternoon heat and in a room without a fan, we jumped and stepped and turned in time with about 8 other women and it was really really fun! We basically laughed our way through the entire class and they in turn laughed right back at us, but they seemed really happy to have us there and made sure to invite us back. I don’t know how great the workout actually was but I feel like I sweated enough to at least pretend that I’d worked out hard.

And considering how conservative the society is known to be here, considering how we work out at the end of the hallway behind closed doors, the class was actually quite….liberating? I’m not sure if that’s the right word, but the instructor had us moving our hips and doing these crazy twists (or at least trying to because my hips definitely don’t move like that as they are firmly attached to the rest of my body) and jumping up and down and then at one point we were literally just dancing around out steps for like 5 minutes!

Walking out I was again struck by the difference between the two sides of the gym…I mean maybe it’s because more men work out then women here…but they definitely have the better space (at least they’re not put in a closed room!) and equipment. But then, we have the aerobics class and that will definitely keep me coming back. So there.

I’ve attached a picture of our side of the gym…I would have tried to get a picture of the men’s side, just for comparison’s sake, but I wasn’t sure how much they’d appreciate that and I wanted to be allowed back in later.

Paradise Lost

This is a bit of a melodramatic title I know (and to be honest I stole it from a museum exhibit) but I feel that this issue something that needs to be addressed and I couldn’t think of a better title. Zanzibar is so often sold as a tropical paradise vacation and we so seldom stop to think about the costs of this popularity.

People on the island (and here I am referring to the family that I live with, some of the teachers at the school where I take Kiswahili classes and co-workers) are pretty quick to tell you that life on the island is getting harder. Prices are rising and jobs are scarce. Well, prices are rising everywhere, but it seemed odd to me that jobs would be so scarce on an island where tourism is booming – shouldn’t this be creating jobs for people?

But when you ask around in the shops and stall and hotels and taxis one predominant trend that emerges is that the majority of people you talk to don’t come from Zanzibar. They come from Dar es Salaam and sometimes ever further away and they have come to take advantage of the presence of tourists.

Popular knowledge will tell you that the tourism industry considers local Zanzibaris to be too lazy to provide effective and efficient employees in the tourism sector. Local Zanzibaris for their part, are quick to say that this is why people who work in tourist areas are so aggressive: they’re mainlanders, real Zanzibaris could never act like that!

And not only are many of the local people not benefiting from Zanzibar’s growing reputation as a tourist destination but Stone Town itself it falling apart in places. Various efforts to make the town more appealing to tourists have led developers to renovate buildings using inappropriate materials (such as cement – apparently it doesn’t let the buildings breathe enough and tends to flake off after a while). Also, residents do not have the money to maintain their houses and as a result buildings are literally falling apart across town. Apparently every year during the raining season a handful of buildings succumb and crumble down to become improvised garbage dumps (it doesn’t seem like there’s any organized system to remove garbage from town so empty/abandoned lots become garbage dumps). The smell can be pretty bad some days and it attracts large numbers of rats. There is some development and renovation but from what I’ve seen it’s mainly in the tourist-friendly Forodhani Gardens. It’s pretty sad for a city that is designated a UNESCO heritage site.

And it leads to some interesting discussions about the mixed blessing that is tourism. The development of some areas over others, the gradual disappearance of residents as more space is demanded by visitors who can pay more and who drive up prices, the development of certain parts of the culture (the parts that can be sold) while the rest is swept under the rug…It will be interesting to see how Stone Town changes over the next few years…to see if it can maintain the integrity of its history that is so much a part of its charm.

Things I Miss...

I arrived in Tanzania July 7, 2008 and I thought I would commemorate the one month mark by listing off things that I miss (at least that I’ve noticed so far)…hopefully this helps to get it out my system. Although I have to admit that I’m pretty spoiled here in Zanzibar…there isn’t a lot that I couldn’t get if I needed it and was willing to pay for it!

First off: Family and Friends of course!

And now on to the real list! (In no particular order)

- Toilet seats (this is a pretty common one I think)
- Clean feet (I feel like my feet have been dirty for a month!)
- Good chocolate…
- Food that’s not deep fried, even balls of rice are deep fried!
- My feet not being covered in mosquito bites (I keep the fan on really high at work so that they can’t land on me but my feet are under the desk so it’s like a free-for-all down there)
- A house without some version of live Planet Earth playing constantly in the ceiling (between the pigeons and the mice that live up there)
- A house where I don’t name the mice – there’s one that lives in the wall by my bed and I call him Clumsy because it sounds like he’s constantly either dropping things or falling…every day I hear *scratch scratch scratch…thump thump thump thump…squeal squeal squeal…*
- Towns that aren’t made up almost entirely of alleyways (they still make me nervous)
- Supermarkets (I know, this is a spoiled one, but come on!)
- Movies…there’s no movie theatre and I really want to see the new Batman movie…and the new Harry Potter movie is coming out this fall! (Again, this is a spoiled one, but I like movies!)
- Hot showers…I miss those.
- Showers period…I’m supposed to have one but it’s not working so all I have is a bucket.

Differences...

I tried to title this one tactfully. What follows in this post are a few descriptions of events that I’ve either witnessed or be told about…events like the ones you read about in the newspaper or guidebooks or heard about and say, with a healthy amount of skepticism, “uh huh…”.

Thief!
There’s a VSO (Volunteer Overseas Service, UK) in my office and he told me this story. He was walking through Darajani (the main daladala-crazy minibuses-stop in Stone Town) when he heard someone yell "thief!" Now, we’d all heard or read about how crowds treat thieves who are caught red-handed in East Africa, but I don’t know if we really believed it. My Rough Guides book recommends that if you do call thief, be prepared to intervene once your belongings are returned as crowds are known to severely beat and even kill thieves. This story was confirmed to me last week. He said that the crowd got a hold of this guy and started beating him…and then the police came and did the same and then dragged him away and apparently you could still hearing him screaming in the police station later. I’ve heard many people say how scared they are of thieves and pickpockets here but when you realize how much they risk, especially in more crowded areas, it gives you a different perspective.

Superstitions
Sometimes you’ll be having a conversation about something and people make an observation to which you have no idea how to respond. I was talking with a girl the other day about Pemba (the northern island in the Zanzibar archipelago). She was telling me how she had visited the island once and never wanted to go back, because there was little electricity, because there are a lot of thieves, because you have to be inside before dark, and because there are a lot of witches. I had to stop my reflexive snort of disbelief because it was obvious that this was a very serious subject for her. I asked around at work as was told that in fact Pemba is generally thought to be the source of any and all evil spirits that make their way to Unguja (aka: Zanzibar Island) and that this is a really serious situation here. I was told that a few years ago there was mass hysteria in Stone Town as rumour spread of an evil spirit that entered people’s homes at night and suffocated them. Apparently people all over town were sleeping in the streets because they were too scared to sleep inside their homes and the government had to make appeals for calm over the radio. Of course it was assumed that this evil spirit had strayed or been sent from Pemba…I’m also told, although I’ve never read this myself, that Pemba is known internationally as a place where witches from around the world go for training…?

Possession
*Some details of this story have been changed to protect people’s privacy etc.

I was in a *meeting* the other day when all of a sudden the girl sitting next to me goes all tense and starts making these really odd and kind of scary faces and twitching and convulsing. I think she’s having a seizure or something and ask her if she’s okay, what’s happening, should I call someone…but she says she’s fine and asks me to continue with what I was saying. Everyone else is giving her these very wary glances but no one says anything so I’m not really sure what’s going on so I turn back to what I was doing and then suddenly I feel her hand running over my shoulder and back…I jump, I don’t really like people touching me and look back at her. She’s still making odd faces and now everyone is staring at her and trying to talk to her and apparently she can’t hear them or isn’t listening. They are trying to see if she is okay and trying to get her to go lie down, just to rest for a bit, etc. She’s saying “no, no, we’re having a discussion…” She stays for a few more minutes although she doesn’t seem to have any awareness of what is going on around her and then she just gets up and walks out of the room.

I decide to ask the obvious question: “what just happened here?” and they lean forward and tell me, very quietly: “she’s possessed by evil spirits”. I would laugh except that I just saw her and don’t really know what to make of it, and they obviously believe it here and take it really seriously. They’re just glad she’s gone, although I don’t see how leaving her on her own to wait for it to pass really helps…I ask about this and am told that she’d rather be here and she doesn’t like to be home when this happens, so maybe things aren’t well at home either?

I ask around and am told that she’s been seen overcoming men like twice her size; she’s just that strong when she has one of these episodes. Apparently her family takes her quite regularly to a local witch doctor but that it’s not helping. I ask if she’s been to a hospital to be checked out by a doctor and they say yeah, and all of the tests came back clean – that clinically they can’t find anything wrong with her. Anyway, so she starts having these episodes really frequently all week and no one knows what to do about it. But it’s really disturbing to see her twitching and convulsing and everyone is too scared to go and help her. I’m told to be very careful if I’m near her as she is known to become quite violent. We talked to other people about it, just brought it up that we were concerned for her health and safety…and then her husband came to get her yesterday and took her home I guess, and we haven’t seen her since.

It was a really odd situation, especially as my first response was she needs to go to a hospital and see a doctor whereas people here truly do believe in the paranormal and therefore possession by evil spirits is a completely rational conclusion. I just hope that she gets the help she needs and that she’s okay.

Living Arrangements

I am living with a family right now and they are constantly asking me how I like my place and if I am comfortable. To give you some context, I guess that this is as good a time as any to describe my living situation. My flat is the top floor of a house right inside the old part of Stone Town. It’s a really good location, very central and close to the main streets so I don’t have to walk too far down the alleys to get there. I’ve received conflicting advise on whether or not to walk around Stone Town at night, some (including my guidebook) assure me that Stone Town is one of the safest (if not the safest) capital in Africa and really I would have to be very unlucky to run into any trouble. Others however, including the previous AKFC intern (who I understand did happen to be one of the unlucky ones) tell me that walking the streets of Stone Town alone at night is not the smartest thing I could be doing. I try to compromise by not carrying anything on me while out at night and sticking to the busier alleys. From what I understand you’re better off if you stay near other people.

Anyway, back to my place. It’s big, really big. I have a big bedroom, a living room (with a TV and cable), in between is an area with a dining room table and chairs. And then there is a kitchen and bathroom. It’s actually pretty nice. No toilet seat of course…the one thing that gets me is that there are birds living in the roof and mice in the ceiling and walls. And all night (until I figured out how to use the sleep timer on my Ipod) all I could hear was hoot hoot…scratch scratch…hoot hoot…scratch scratch…and then sometimes I think the birds eat the mice because I’ll hear frantic running and then wings and then high pitched squealing. Anyway, in the middle of the night when you’re lying there awake…it’s not the nicest thing ever. Especially if the sounds are lower down and you can’t tell if they’re in the walls or in the room! If they stayed in the ceiling and walls, that would be okay, as long as they don’t die there…but I guess they would eat each other which would probably take care of the smell. But then one morning I woke up and there were these funny marks in my soap…which is by the sink and not the easiest place for anything to climb up onto…and then by the afternoon the soap was gone. So then I realized that not only do they come into my apartment, they’re in my sink…yuck! I used bottled soap now…and everything is put in buckets and cupboards when I am not using them. Plus I try to make the cat come up at least once a day…just as a deterrent.

There was also a problem with the electricity the first week I was living there. It would go off in the middle of the night, which meant my fan would go off in the middle of the night. I don’t know if it was because the noise stopped or because it got hotter, but it would always wake me up in the middle of the night. The first time it scared me pretty badly because just before I arrived the power had been out on the island for something like 7 weeks so my first thought was: “7 weeks without power…what am I going to do?!?! I’m not ready for this yet”. But the power always comes back on in the mornings…usually as soon as I’ve finished getting ready for work in the dark.

Other than that though the place is pretty good, the floors slant, in different directions depending on which side of the house you’re on…there’s the occasional gecko that wanders through. Sometimes the girl and boy in my family come upstairs and we watch TV together and talk. I’ve committed to two months at this place and then we’ll see. I’d like to find a roommate and maybe find somewhere less expensive a little ways outside of Stone Town. I haven’t been able to get a definitive answer about whether there are more mice in town or outside the town. One thing most people assure me of though is that I’m more likely to get sick from the water and the mosquitoes than the mice. I haven’t decided yet if this is good news or bad.

a-MAZE-ing

The old part of Stone Town is literally a maze of stone paved alleyways that all look almost the same. Growing up in Vancouver, just outside the downtown eastside, I was always taught that alleys are the worst places to walk and should be avoided unless absolutely necessary. So this place can be a little intimidating sometimes, most of the time actually. It’s just a gut reaction, but walking through the alleys still makes me really nervous and that is something I’m going to have to get used to.

But the maze does actually have its own charm, authenticity and character that can be so hard to find in bigger cities that because of factors like trade and tourism are becoming so generic. Every alley you take will lead you past a small coffee stand, food stand, hand-made furniture workshop, children playing ball, small corner stores, etc. There are also the doors to look at; Stone Town is famous for the heavy, intricately carved wooden doors that lead into many of the homes. And Stone Town isn’t really that big so you can usually find your way out within half-an-hour (unless you’re like me and like to go in circles!).

As you’ve probably assumed, the beaches here are beautiful. The sunsets on nice days are spectacular and there is no shortage of restaurants with patios over or on the beach that over a beautiful view of the sun setting, usually accompanied by hugely overpriced food and drinks. But I suppose you’re also paying for the atmosphere.

People are very friendly here too, which is actually taking some getting used to. Everywhere you go people are saying “hello” and “welcome”. From traveling in Latin America and South East Asia I have developed a very strong distrust of strangers who address me in the street, because usually it’s catcalling or they are being very aggressive trying to sell you something. But most people here just say hello as they pass you in the street and seem to be happy to walk my back to my guesthouse or wherever else I may be headed when I get lost in the maze that is Stone Town (if you haven’t guessed already, my sense of direction is notoriously bad, almost non-existent). As a defense mechanism, I have developed a fairly aggressive glare to discourage people from talking to me in the streets and it has been another adjustment to control that reflex and acknowledge people in return and be friendly.

Finding My Way

My first few days in Tanzania were quite interesting…a lot of new things to see and to do and figure out. I am resolved to absorb and describe for the first week or so and try not to make too many judgments until I’m more adjusted. Culture shock and jet-lag do not make for the most open of minds. Dar es Salaam was big, although being driven around the whole time I didn’t really get a feel for the city itself. I am finding that having things organized for you, while it makes for a much easier and less stressful trip does take away some of your incentive to figure things out for yourself. I didn’t know where my hotel was in the city (ie: in relation to everything else) because it was booked for me and I was picked up and dropped off every day (please don’t think that I didn’t appreciate it, this is just a new experience for me). It was a very nice hotel though, with a casino attached and several restaurants, and because of the jet-lag I wasn't feeling hugely motivated to leave and try and find my around the city. I tried walking around a bit on my second day but I got quite lost. I somehow managed to walk straight out of town and into a suburb…that earned me quite a few strange looks from people obviously wondering what I was doing in that part of town.

It’s also funny how no matter where you are, you run into the oddest parallels and find things and places that remind you very strongly of other places you’ve been in your life. I visited the Institute for Educational Development, East Africa (an AKDN project) and the structure of the building was amazingly similar to Tuol Sleng, the former prison that was once a high school in Phnom Penh…(this is kind of creepy, I know). They also sell the same bags here that we saw in Thailand, and then again at the Sunday market in Victoria, BC. It must be a popular design.

Other places I visited during orientation in Dar es Salaam include the Aga Khan Hospital and the Aga Khan University. I would tell you more about these visits but I was so tired from travelling and jet-lag that the memories are somewhat hazy.

Next: Impressions of Stone Town

Kujitambulisha (Self-Introduction)

I arrived in Stone Town July 9, 2008 and will be living here for the next 8 months working with the NGO Resource Centre Zanzibar. The following blog will be a summary of my thoughts and experiences while I am here. I will try to cover a diversity of topics based on my work and travels, the people I meet and the things that I do. Enjoy!