Second Zanzibar Visit

It had been a particularly busy time in the lead-up to going to Zanzibar and I had not the time to look forward to it, but once in the car I was ready! It was good to have a spell away.

I will write from my Diary.
It takes about 8 hours to drive to Dar es Salaam, but as much as 12 on a bad day,through country that for me is always interesting. In fact the change in vegetation between when we travelled down and when we travelled back was quite remarkable. Previously bare trees had produced leaves and the yellow/orange flowers on some Acacias were brilliant.
As usual we saw many broken down trucks and other vehicles that had crashed on rolled over. Sometimes the carnage on the Dar-Arusha road is sometimes horrific. There is no ambulance service so the police flag down passing vehicles to transport the wounded to hospital. This is so if the police want to go from A to B, the simply flag someone down and hitch a ride. Daunting if you are not used to it.
On my driving shift I stopped beside the white-clad traffic policeman who had held his hand up as a signal for me to stop. He didn't look at the car and in friendly English he asked where we were from and where we were going. Then he signaled in the usual way [fingers like the beak of a hen toward his mouth] and said, 'I am hungry.' That meant he wanted payment for a beer or indeed something to eat.'Even me, I am hungry.' I replied in Swahili, 'I have not not eaten since 5 hours, but I am in a hurry.'
He just laughed and waved me on.

The city of Dar es Salaam was chaos back then and the traffic lights did not work properly but on the busy intersections there was a policeman on point duty, but some of the drivers took no notice of him - especially daladalas. After all there was no way to catch transgressors.
There were the street stalls, made out of whatever materials that could be collected or scavenged, protection from the sun being some plastic sheeting. The stalls were untidily is rows along the street but the merchandise was neatly displayed. Ties, shirts, trousers, radios, soap, oil - cooking, motor and body. You name it and it was there.
When the lines of traffic crawled to a halt vijana passed by trying to sell their wares and usually getting a short shift from wazungus when really all they were trying to do was to make a living.
Certainly the were signs of an emerging modern city but the old character of the city was evident as were the problems created by and infrastructure not set up to serve the exploding population.

As usual we stayed at the Salvation Army complex. Mainly because we could make arrangements to leave our car there in complete safety. The huts needed renovation but were all that we needed - a clean bed, shower that had only cold water [you don't need hot water in Dar and anyway cold was not cold, more tepid], there was a fan that Mags liked to have on despite the racket it made and the likelihood that it call fall from the ceiling! The dining room was modern, neat and clean with well cooked meals. I could not get used to coconut milk in my tea though.

I arranged for a taxi to pick us up in time to book on the Flying Horse ferry to take us across to Zanzibar. There is always the fear that Tanzanian taxi drivers are crooks and never reliable, but actually we had no problems at all - I thing speaking the language is a massive help though.

There is a booth where you book the ferry crossing and as residents we received the appropriate discount, then we waited for the Flying Horse to be loaded.
It was always interesting to cast an eye around the port. There were three Russian built hydrofoils lying at anchor - one of them was operational but not used these days. There were other wrecks dotted around various parts of the port also. At the gate sat an albino man, zeruzeru and he showed the authority of a typical wharfie. The bare chested men sweated under the heavy loads they carried down the long ramp onto the ferry - sometimes pushing waiting passengers aside. There was jostling among the passengers so that they could be on the boat first/early - but that didn't matter really. My guess was that she was always overloaded but I had no way of telling.

The Flying Horse is a catamaran so she sails through the water well, never the less Mags and Jo felt seasick although it was just the feeling. We always went up to the first class area - a sort of lounge one deck out with windows so you could see where we were headed. There was Muslim religious programmes including music on the TV screen and while not what we were used to, it did us no harm - after all the boat was owned by Muslims and Zanzibar is 90 or so % Muslim. Sometimes we were alone on in the lounge and sometimes a few people were with us but for me, it was a great way to travel.





Once at Stonetown, we were in familiar surroundings but had to go through the normal immigration process that involved getting a white chalk mark on our luggage. We had already booked at The Haven, so the taxi driver did not haggle - they like to arrange the accommodation because they receive a posho payment from the hotel/boarding houses.
The folk at The Haven were pleased to see us and I liked the ceilings of the rooms that were plaster above round beams painted black. All is clean and very tidy with mosquito nets over the beds and the showers/toilets safi sana.


To walk through the narrow streets of Stonetown is a delight and the history seeps into you. The buildings are made from coral rock which has actually been plastered over. The huge wooden doors are beautifully carved and there are some elaborate locks. There is plenty of life in the town and of course the look is Muslim but the ethnicity is diverse. African, Indian, Arabian - all are friendly and the shops are welcoming. Despite signs requesting tourists to respect the local culture by wearing appropriate clothing, many do not and wonder why they become off-side with the locals.

This time we hired a small Suzuki 4x4 to explore the North and South of the island - just day trips and you cannot expect large differences on a small island.
Not far out of Stonetown, I spotted an area of indigenous bush that I was interested to look at and Mo was keen to explore for snails. Mags and Jo sat in the car as we fossiked and in fact I found some snails that I had never seen before, so I gathered them. Next there was the sound of tramping feet and I heard someone asking Mo what he was doing. His reply was simple, 'What does it look like?'
Well they arrested him and I snuck out behind the group - there were two of them. Mags and Jo had come to see what was happening as the men had first approached the car. As he walked, Mo held his snails behind his back and handed them to Mags. Mo was put into their car and they sped off with us in hot pursuit as they travelled fast!
They stopped at the Police Station and the pair - who were not policemen but foresters [as far as I could ascertain] - stated their case and wanted Mo arrested. Mo now was getting titchy and wanted to have his say, but I knew this would inflame the situation so I told him to be quiet and sit down.
The foresters did not know I spoke the language and were accusing Mo of trespass and reiterated their wish to have him arrested. As I butted in, the desk sergeant told me to wait for them to speak then I could.
On my turn I produced a letter that said I was there on behalf of Hifadhi approved by the Tanzania Government and in my passport I had my work permit. I told the sergeant that I was a forester and just interested to look at an area of indigenous trees. I said I saw the sign saying not to take firewood but there was no sign saying there was no entry allowed.
The sergeant saw that my argument was logical and that we meant no harm, so he released us.

There is a rich history to Zanzibar and it it well worth following. The slave trade had a large impact and if you go to where the poor people were housed you will feel the pain they felt! But history is to be absorbed and I can't describe it any better than those who write with more authority than I.
The Fort is now in the process of being restored and my imagination takes over when I go there because it is such a fascinating place.

Africa House is also steeped in history and I just loved the staircase there - any moment expecting to see Dirk Bogart or James Bond waiting with revolver at the ready. Largely Africa House has become a hangout for expat holiday makers so although it was a good place for a beer, we did not go there often.

On the other hand, I liked to go down to the docks and look at the boats and what they carried. I used to enjoy the same experience as a lad at Lyttleton [I'm told that my foot became stuck somehow in/on the rail line and a train was coming! Well I survived that.] I was excited to see my first Dhow when visiting Tanga and these boats carried goods all up and down the Swahili Coast. You may think the technology is primitive but Dhows have been used for centuries with little change.

Zanzibar is known as a 'spice island' and most visitors take a spice tour of some sort. It is well worth it and a guide is able to give you a lot of information. We went with Suleman and while from his photo you may think that he looks like something out of Arabian Nights, he was in fact very good. His old car was in NZ language, a Dunger; I could see the road through the floor and before he could change into third gear, he had to slip it into forth then to third! We had to pay for the fuel up-front but that was usual then. But he took us to the Sultan's Palace and all the other significant sights. Included was a meal and the old waiter could not understand what Jo wanted to drink (tea), he brought normal sweet tea first but took that back, then he brought unsweetened milky tea and had to take that back, he brought sweet black tea and that was wrong - then I realised the poor guy was deaf, stone deaf. So then it was easily sorted.

On the way across the island to the East coast there is a the Jozani Forest. Of course I wanted a look there and it was a mix of indigenous and exotic forest. There was a tree nursery and the people there were happy to talk to me about what they were doing and one of them even wanted me to give him a job at Makumira. They grow Casuarina [She Oak] for a timber crop but it is very useful for light poles which are used in traditional house building. Casuarina thrives in sandy soils and withstands coastal climates [salt].
There are Red Colobus Monkeys in the forest - I think the only ones in the world? - so we tried to find some. They are used to being watched and I was able it creep close and actually feel the hair on one's tail.

We stayed at Paje Ndame. Ndame is the name of the owner and paje means cheek.
To us it is an idyllic place with white sand, coconut palms and a peaceful sea. There was another good reason to stay there - it was owned and administered by locals - some of the flash places are Italian and other rich people so the essence of Zanzibar is lost through opulence.
The upper storied area was our favorite place to stay, though there was problems with water because the pump did not always work and the toilet was not fixed to the floor properly so it rocked. But that did not detract from the experience - it added to it.

I was interested to see there was an industry of seaweed farming. Using sticks/stakes with string to set and hold cuttings of the seaweed and allowing it to grow. As the tide went out the women would come to collect drifting seaweed - the tide would rip off the growing seaweed and those pieces were collected. The dried seaweed was sent off to Denmark and the collectors were paid a pittance as is usual in third world countries. As was my custom, I woke early each morning, had a cup of tea and wandered around, often paddling into the warm sea. I would collect odd pieces of drifting seaweed and give it to one of the women. The Muslim modesty revealed itself because the women wore full length dresses/kangas even while in the sea - I would have found that difficult [if I wore dresses!!]. And that white sand in the bright sunlight causes eye problems because nobody could afford sunglasses! Now there's a project... but gradually I noticed a few were wearing sunglasses buy our last visit there.









Zabibu was the owner's daughter and ran the place at times and she allowed me to go into the kitchen [kitchens are basic but I know my way around them] to make my early morning cup of tea. Mostly dishes are left until the next morning, so finding a clean suferia was difficult but they had a curious was of heating water. Three table forks were attached to a small block of wood and the power was connected. A simple, very dangerous immersion heater. I never touched the thing!

Very often while paddling through the sea, I would encounter people who were spear fishing. I never saw much to spear, there were plenty of very small fish and out on the reef there were octopus and they were usually caught in holes in the reef. One day as I greeted a woman with a spear, I trod on a skate [like a Manter Ray only very much smaller] so I called to her and I managed to turn it toward her and she speared it! She was happy enough to pose for a photo.

It was quite a long way out to the reef and it took the best part of half an hour; depending on the route you took. And route was a factor in how deep the water was - usually up to my waist but sometimes almost chest deep. There were many sea urchins out there with sharp spines so you need sandals or some other foot protection to go out there. Papaya is good to help extract the spines though and once I borrowed a safety pin but you have to watch that it is clean.
The reef is not very healthy because of the use of explosives and over fishing. But look carefully and there is plenty to see.

I wanted to take a photo of the sun rising out of the sea but on every occasion I took my camera - or in fact each morning we were there, clouds sat on the horizon so I never managed that photo. However the sunrises were spectacular.





Back in Stonetown, I wanted a similar thing, but clouds again stopped me from getting the photo I wanted. And while I did not take a photo of it, I witnessed a spectacular night thunderstorm over Africa - now that was a sight worth seeing.

It is always worthwhile going down to the waterfront in the evening to choose food cooked out in the open and displayed most temptingly. There is also the chance of seeing a Dhow or two pass by as well - off on some mysterious voyage, well mysterious to me.





But Zanzibar is a colourful place and if you allow your imagination to allow it you can easily recall the stories of Sindbad. Some of that colour remains - we have kangas, kikois, paintings and other material from our visits there.



Always there are other interesting things that happen, like finding the olive grove or seeing the Lilac Breasted Roller [bird] or going on the dolphin sightseeing expedition and not seeing a dolphin - but love Zanzibar.

Oh but I broke a tooth there and went to an Indian woman who had trained as a dentist in the UK. The surgery was like going back to the 1950's and the drill had no water cooling - this is because the water was not sterile. The instruments were sterilized in alcohol. The spitting bowl was held by a concerned young woman. She was professional and did a very good job and the filling is with me even today.