Muungoni, Zanzibar

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I'm staying with another student in Muungoni, though we're studying different things here. Maggie is studying birds on a nearby island, (appropriately named Bird Island) which is a pretty cool project. Every morning, hundreds (maybe thousands) of birds leave this mangrove island in the middle of this large river and every night, they return. So she goes out there in the morning and in the evening to observe the different species, watch their activity, and count their numbers. I've gone with her twice now, seen lotsa birds and two beautiful sunsets over the island and river.

On Thursday, we decided to canoe downstream to the island, maybe a mile away. We left at maybe 5pm, arrived by 5:30, and drifted around watching roosting birds in the mangroves until 6 when most of the flocks started to arrive. We counted birds and recorded species for about an hour in our skinny, carved-out wooden canoe, well past when the sun had set to the west and the full moon rose in the east almost simultaneously.

About 7, we were content with our work and ready to head home for food. However, it was not that easy. Between our heavy wooden canoe, the river current against us, exhaustion from canoeing around, and our inefficient paddles (Maggie had one was made from the stalk of a coconut branch, mine was a broken wooden paddle that had only half of the part you dip in the water) we were going pretty slow, sometimes backwards. We had a problem. I know this is a little ridiculous, you kind of have to use your imagination for this one. Maggie and I argued a little bit about what to do. She wanted to paddle back upstream; I wanted to dock the boat on shore near the island, then bring back light and people to help us carry the boat over land, back to the port it was docked at.

We compromised.

We jumped out the boat and walked it the mile back to the port in the water. It took like 2 hours. We got back well after nine. We were late for dinner though all I could think of was sleep when we returned. The clothes I wore in the water still reek a little. I now have cuts all over my feet. I stepped on some of the weirdest things ever in that river, I wish not to think about them.

At first walking the boat it was fine, the water was shallow near Bird Island. But all of a sudden, the river got a lot deeper and we were forced to swim, with the canoe, to the bank. Except it wasn't a bank, just a mangrove forest the entire way back. So for most of the journey, we're treading on the mangrove roots trying to push this canoe upstream. It was clowntown.

So good times. What else?? Well, as I walk down the one paved street in Muungoni everyday, I get a lot of different looks from villagers. Judging by all the crazy looks I've received, you'd think they wanted me out. But no (at least, not yet). You may be surprised to learn that I play a very important role in Muungoni: a reliable comedian.

Just saying hello or how are you in Swahili seems to elicit laughter from some people, though usually the kids. I still not sure if they are laughing because I can speak Swahili or laughing at me. Probably a little of both. At this point, I'm pretty used to it. Third option is that I do say something stupid in Swahili, in which case they have every right to laugh at me. One time I accidentally mixed up the Swahili words for husband and wife, which in my defense sound similar to each other, and asked a man how his husband was. Oops.

Now that I'm researching medicine, I've learned a lot of terminology relating to plants, body parts, health, ect. Nevertheless, there are still tons of words I don't know that I should. I still don't know how to say. I don't know how to say any colors. None. The only adjectives I know are that for good and bad. So you're either a good person or a bad person in my book, no grey area apparently. And I'm still not familiar with many of the foods. I know most of the important fruits but there are too many fried foods to learn. And I only know the word for vegetable, mboga, not any individual veggies. Others unknown to me: to hate, to feel, to smell computer, TV, table, bed, bag, window, room, bus, street, sugar, left, right, in, down, sometimes, anytime, anywhere, mr, ms, ect. (there are many more, I just can't think of words I don't know)

I am able to say Swahili words like 'snail', 'disabled person', 'dynamite' and 'buttocks' that do not (should not) come up in any normal conversations. But of course, I have no idea how to say colors, shapes, and most objects around me. The best thing I ever learned was the word for 'this' and 'that', you have no idea how many times I use those each day.

Despite my frequent and never-ending mistakes, I'm able to defend in Swahili a little bit more now. I get dozens of muzungu calls each day, so many of the kids yell it. When I hear one, I decide whether the person is joking about it or using it derogatively against me, usually by their tone. If they're joking, I might wave or say hi. But if I feel their trying to insult me, sometimes I'll yell back "mswahili" which means 'person who speaks Swahili.' I'm not insulting them, I'm just reminding them that I'm a white person and they're a Tanzanian and we're all human. For many kids, a little lightbulb goes off in their head and they think 'oh yeah, maybe yelling that isn't very kind.' After that, they usually shut up and I can continue walking down the road, enjoying life.

Sometimes, I really get my revenge. More than a few people in Muungoni think I'm not funny at all. In fact, not only have I failed to make many Muungoni people chuckle and giggle, I've made a few break down into tears. Three, but who's counting?

I'm just a horrible person, I guess.

If I'm in the right place at the right time with the right people, I can make little kids here cry without doing or saying anything. I've walked by a few little kids now who have never seen a white person before and watch as their expressions turn from happiness to horror when they see me. Occasionally, and if you're a little lucky, tears will ensue. I think it’s one of the funniest things I've ever seen, little kids crying just because of my complexion, just because of my existence. I don't care if it makes me sound like an asshole, they break down in tears and I break down in laughter, I can't help it. I try to hold it back but given the hilarity of the situation, its hard.

So yeah, now you all know that I'm a jerk :-)

I'm in Stone Town just for only a little while today. Tonight, I'm going to town of Nungwe for their Full Moon Party, at night under the full moon, every full moon. I'm excited for it, its held on a beach. Yay!! Monday, I return to Muungoni to get back to work. Well, not exactly work, more like doing a little bit of work and enjoying myself for the rest of the day. Miss yall like an ice cream misses the cone.

P.S. popular US pop music among Z'bar's male youth: Jay-Z, Neyo, T.I., Kayne West, Shania Twain hahaha

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