After two weeks of waking up before the sun to carry sloshing 18-litre buckets of water on our heads to fill the big blue water bucket, after calluses and blood blisters and even a scorpion bite incurred as what was an empty field in the Shamba countryside became a building, Zanzibar was what most would dfine as paradise - pristine white beaches and clear turquoise ocean, groves of palm trees waving in the spice-scented breeze, coffee, and flush toilets. I spent every day wondering how the next thing on the schedule could possibly be more luxurious or fascinating or delicious than
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