Zanzibar!

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Long time, no blog! Sorry! I have, however, been busily enjoying all that Tanzania has to offer. Namely: ZANZIBAR! As far as beaches go, the beaches on Zanzibar are bar none the best in the world. The surf is low and somehow creates the softest white sand beaches I have ever touched. The locals are lovely and welcoming. Most importantly, every part of the tiny island has a distinct personality, creating an island perfect for any tourist to find their idea of paradise (peponi in Kiswahili).

The first two nights of our trip were spent on the north side of the island at a resort called Kendwa Rocks. Kendwa is known as a party beach and it lived up to its reputation. Since it was our first stop I had nothing to compare it to, which was good. I loved it while we were there, but was happy to move on to less developed areas of the island. Looking back, Kendwa was fungible; it could have been any beautiful beach anywhere in the world. It had no specific flavor of its own since it has been systematically white-washed to fit the tastes of the tourist masses that flock there for full moon parties and cheap tourist knickknacks.

While in Kendwa we walked around the northern tip of the island and visited a sea turtle rehabilitation “aquarium.” Did you know that when sea turtles eat, they shoot water out of their noses? Well, now you do!

Leaving Kendwa, we headed to the eastern side of Zanzibar to a beach called Paje. For all the manufactured tourist fun of Kendwa, Paje was a slice of undeveloped heaven. Paje’s main product is seaweed that is made into soap, so when the tide goes out (and it goes FAR out), the local women wade out to their respective seaweed plots to tend to the plants and to harvest the mature seaweed. We waded right out with them and (thanks to my travel companion who speaks significantly better Swahili than I do) talked to them about their work and watched them labor for their families’ livelihood. Marija and I spent three nights in a hotel called Paradise Beach Bungalows, a beachfront dream owned by a Japanese woman who delighted me each night with delicious seafood that had been swimming in the ocean only hours before.

Although we had a few moments of panic when we first arrived when we discovered that our accommodations were supposed to be a reed hut with a mattress on the floor, we soon upgraded to a beautiful beachfront cottage with a private bathroom (LUXURY!), patio, and hammock.

Paje was home. I cannot exactly describe it, nor can I pinpoint why, but Paje, and Paradise Beach Bungalows, felt like where I belonged. Aside from being more beautiful than words can describe and more breathtaking than pictures can capture; Paje has an air about it that is at the same time comforting and exotic. The men who worked at Paradise Beach were like the little Tanzanian brothers I never had and I miss them every day.

Where Kendwa had been a mecca for tourists looking for a beach backdrop for their vacation, Paje (at least the part we were at) was nearly undeveloped and where development had occurred it was more organic and in keeping with the environment and local culture. I loved it. Every moment of it.

The three days we spent in Paje were fantastic. The first day there was a large group of us who had traveled from the ICTR together and it was our last night as a group. We had a delicious sushi dinner, watched the moon rise, and had a fantastic time. The next day everyone but myself and Marija left. We decided that day would be our south day. So we set off down the beach during low tide (the beach is mostly impassible during high tide) and found a nearby lagoon where droves of people were kite surfing. I had never seen this sport close up, so we waded out and watched them glide and jump and wondered how they did not get blown out to sea (or into one another). As the tide came in we headed back to our little slice of heaven where Ali, one of wonderful men at the hotel, brought us young coconut fresh from the trees on site. Delicious. We also met Massagi (like Massage, but with a Swahili “i” added to the end), a sweet and rather plump dog that lived at the hotel. He and I became very close friends after I fed him all of the skin from my fish that night at dinner. Incidentally, mbwa (possibly spelled wrong) is the Swahili word for dog.

The next day was our much anticipated trip to Kisimkasi, a southern beach known for allowing tourists to swim with dolphins. We took a cab there, boarded what looked to be a giant fiberglass bathtub with an outboard motor, and headed out into the choppy sea. After driving all over creation looking for the dolphins we finally found a pod of humpback dolphins (which I had never heard of), but since they were hunting they were moving too fast for us to swim with them. Instead we found a spot to snorkel for a bit, where I was promptly stung by a jellyfish, and then headed back to shore. I have to say, if the worst part of your trip is being five feet away from a pod of dolphins, you have probably had a pretty great trip to Zanzibar. Once back at our hotel we walked north up the beach and found that we were staggeringly close to local village. Women and young girls sat on the shore and dug up small clams from the sand, roving bands of young boys patrolled the shallows with ropes they would splash in the water so stun small fish which they collected in sacks, and groups of happy looking youngsters frolicked in the surf.

That night we were escorted by some of our new friends that worked at the hotel to a local dance club (a term I use very generously in this context since it was essentially a concrete pit surrounded by a concrete patio). The music was great, as it always is in Tanzania, and the locals were…friendly… maybe too friendly. I will not get into details, but there was an overly handsy Massai and several gropey men who made our stay in the club shorter than expected. That being said, we had a great time and I am very happy that we ventured out of the tourist bubble and into a local hotspot.

The next day we ate breakfast, took pictures with our friends, exchanged addresses, and left for Stone Town. As sad as I was to leave Paje, Stone Town was a must-see and I am so glad that we budgeted so much time there. Our hotel, Dhow Palace, was originally a private home, built in the 1500s. It is beautiful and the rooms are luxurious. Ours had a cute balcony overlooking the courtyard pool. Eventually, we explored the hotel and found untold numbers of beautiful antiques and a rooftop that overlooked the entire city and the ocean beyond.

While the rest of our trip had been quiet and relaxing, Stone Town is a hive of activity and the best thing to do it just get lost in its meandering maze of allies and narrow streets. Our first day we stayed close to our hotel and then found a beautiful seawall to sit on and watch the sunset over the sparkling turquoise waters of the Indian Ocean.

We eventually made our way to Forodhani Gardens, a lovely park by day, and a bustling night market filled with table after table of local fare. Many purveyors specialize in skewers of freshly caught seafood that you purchase (after a short haggle) and have grilled to order. A favorite among tourists and locals alike is Zanzibar pizza. Coming in both savory and sweet varieties, this “pizza” is nothing like its name suggests. I had the meat variety which consists of a thin crust (think crepe, but made with dough instead of batter) piled in the middle with minced onions, ground beef, mayo, a scrambled egg, and a piece of cheese similar to Laughing Cow Cheese. All of the filling is mixed together, the edges of the dough are folded around it, and the whole thing is thrown into a hot wok-like contraption with something called vegetable ghee. It is cooked through on both sides, topped with fresh salad and hot sauce, and chopped into pieces to be eaten with a tooth pick. It is delicious. I will not even go into the myriad dessert options, but I will say that Nutella, peanut butter, chocolate, and fresh tropical fruits are involved.

Our evening ended at a music festival of sorts that was part of ZIFF, the Zanzibar International Film Festival. I cannot put into words exactly what we watched there, much of it was too odd to describe fully. I can say that the first band, which we decided was Iranian, brought the house down with a song that consisted mostly of snapping accompanied by a single drum. The second band was more of a dance troupe that sought to bring home a message of unity within Zanzibar via extremely suggestive dancing. The last band, a local rock/hip hop/reggae group, was actually quite good and reminded me what I enjoy most about going out in Tanzania. Without the presence of women on the dance floor, the men of this country are more than happy to dance alone or with each other, completely immune to the pressures and whispers that such behavior would be met with in the US.

I will confess one problem with Stone Town: it is a shopper’s paradise, and thus a budget traveler’s danger zone. We spent much of our time lost in the town, which is exceedingly small and lends itself well to exploration on foot. We were able to eventually find our way to the central market where we found the products that made Zanzibar famous: spices! For less than pennies on the dollar I found fresh vanilla, saffron, nutmeg, and nameless other delicious goods.

In total, Zanzibar ni peponi (Zanzibar is paradise). I love it. I was sad to leave and even though I had an entire week there I left feeling like I did not have enough time. However, I allow myself the pleasure of knowing that I will be back and next time I will rectify the major drawback of this trip: the absence of my husband and kids.

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Photos

Kendwa Rocks
Sunset our first night

Kendwa Rocks
Not a bad view!

My future husband?
This gentleman was very nice and thought it was a compliment to tell me I walk like a cow.

Paje
Marija enjouing the view.