Zanzibar Zen Final

August 31

This morning is all about diving. I arrive at the East African Diving centre just before 9 am and find a dozen or so people trying on diving suits. A German woman helps me find a suitable one. I use the fins and the mask from yesterday's practice. Then, we board the zodiac, loading our belongings, the tanks and the BCs are already there, and we are off, riding parallel to the cost for about thirty minutes, to Memba island.

MJ, the dive master, and JP, my young buddy and I go down first. Most of the others are snorkelling. The coral reef is similar to the last one I visited, at Acumal Bay in Mexico. We spot turtles grazing at the bottom, and tons of tropical fish, trumpet, stone, big napoleon, angel, I like the one that looks like a seal. We stay for 50 minutes at about 16m. I am relaxed there, but going up, and hopping on the boat, I feel sea sick. There is a group of dolphins playing around the boat and they divert my attention.

Then it is time for the dive #2. We go down the reef wall, for only about 10m and at first I am fine. Then a little Nemo decides to check out my mask and I follow it with my eyes, big mistake, one Nemo becomes fifty Nemos and the dizziness is back. I start puking into the Indian Ocean. Pure little Nemos swim away for their life! MJ is concerned, he wants to check on me, I sign that I am ok and wave him away. He doesn't need to be asked twice, he is gone to the other side of the reef. Then I go again and this time my regulator ejects out. I am in a cloud of yikes, but I recover, no problemo.
We continue the dive, will think about the pollution I have caused later. Back on the boat, I don't move much, think that will help restore the balance around me.

Back on my beach I wrap myself in the towel, stretch on the sun bed and sleep. I feel few drops of rain on my feet but don't move. It is cloudy and this is what I need.

Then I am up, hungry, thirsty, everything. I walk the step past Kanu's gift shop to the restaurant terrace and find Kanu there, always Kanu when I am not sure where to take myself next. 'Eat here', he says, 'the food is good, sit'. We chat until my vegetable chapati is there, then I savour it while he is doing business with Chinese and Italians. I watch Manchester United play and score. We make a deal to go to the party tonight. 'It is your last night, and tonight is the best party, you have to come', says Kanu.

I'll need coffee to stay up and make it to the party, here they get going around midnight, so I go to Mahraba caffe at Langi Langi hotel and I catch the second Manchester United goal as I drink my black Tanzanian coffee.

Then it is close to sunset, time for my long swim and the beach. I chat with Germans who like to check themselves out in the mirror, they are nice, just married and here on their honeymoon. They tell me stories about their driving adventures, and we laugh. Never judge.

Every day, thirty minutes before the sunset, the beach comes to life. Locals assemble for a game of soccer, a lot of shouting and cheering. Families, muslims, go for a walk, the father wearing a long gown and  often a turban, goes first, behind him one or two wives, mostly covering the head, but not the face, their children, sometimes also his parents. I notice they ignore us, half-naked tourists. Sometime, a group of high school girls in their uniforms come (the driver, Hadji told me that they wear black and white, while the younger girls wear navy and white) and sit underneath the hotel terrace posts, play and laugh. They do check me out from time to time, before they get immersed in their play. I have once seen a group of school boys as well, they set bare few meters away from the girls, but never interacted. Interestingly, the beach salesman are rare around this time. Then, there are Dhows, Zanzibar boats, that take tourists out for sunset cruises.

Still letting my belly work through chapati, I shower and spend two hours updating my Kili blog, reliving Uhuru peak over again, my Nime Furahi story. Then I have dinner at the hotel bar, Julie comes by to say goodbye and ask if I need any help tomorrow. The best thing about Z hotel is simple thoughtfulness that considers the needs of the guests to the finest detail.

Then I change into jeans, safer that way, we are going to another village and I don't need any men trouble tonight, and go to get Kanu. He wants me to chill, brings me a safari beer, chats a bit then goes off to close his shop, moving everything that hangs outside to inside, enjoy your beer this will only take a few minutes. I watch him, then I watch the stars over Zanzibar island, the beach, the rhythm in which the turquoise water strokes the white sand. Kanu comes back, the store locked, he asks if I can wait another two minutes, then disappears. I know he lives in a rental behind the shop, he is back refreshed and smelling nice. We walk few steps down the village road and get a taxi to Kendwa Rock hotel, a ten minute ride. There, a buzz of cars and people, we pay 10K tanzanian shilling and get in. 'How can the locals afford this', I ask Kanu. 'They just pay', he responds.

Behind the gate, we are on the beach, a big circular dance podium covered with dry coconut leaves, two bars on the other side, random tables and couches made of solid wood scattered on the sand. Torches in-between. Indian ocean in the back. A lot of beautiful looking people having fun.

I want to dance, but Kanu wants to have a drink first, 'no rush, let's get a drink and chill, then we will dance'. I have a tequila, it is almost midnight and I need a wake up shot. Then we talk, he shows me a picture of the house he bought in Arusha, where he is from, he has a plan to go back one day, hoping to first make more money off the land he bought here on the beach. I wish that all his plans come true. No stress with Kanu, we chill, and then it is time to dance. We first stand on the side of the podium, checking it out, then we get into it and in a while this is the best dance ever, I love the energy of this place, the crazy mix of everyone and I love how we dance.

We later sit on the beach, it is a busy place, locals are wandering around, looking at what is going on, wishing they could get into the party place. American teens are floating in their clothes in the shallow water right in front of us. Kanu tells me, many women come to his shop and he never liked any, but me, he immediately liked. He is happy I walked into his shop to ask for directions, out of all the shops on the beach. Yes, I say, I felt close to you, like I knew you. That's it, he says, you never know where you'll find love but it always happens in one second. And he mimics the shooting star with one hand. Nakupenda. Really? Really? True or not, this raw honesty is so refreshing. I think of Canadians and our dating labyrinths with obstacles that keep our feelings safe and controlled, keep us safe.

September 1

Huh, September is here and I am still in August, that is what I associate this island with. I drag myself to breakfast and have a lot of coffee, my head is more clear now. Then I take one last picture of my spot on this beach and go for a long swim.

Kanu comes over and we go for a long walk down the beach. The tide is high and at time we walk through the hip deep water to get through. He shows me the Italian five start resorts, I like the small "Z" so much more. We have a swim and we dive and count how long each can sit underwater. His counting is double as fast as mine, so I come out as a winner. I laugh. Soon it is time to say goodbye, pack and catch my ride to Stone Town, then the ferry to take me off the island. Kanu says I should come back over Christmas, not possible, I laugh, but always be this great and never change.

The ferry is first class and the safety announcement doesn't stop bragging about it. It also lists offences on the boat that get you into jail, 'no spitting', 'no swear words or obscenities', 'no jumping overboard', 'no alcohol or chewing tobacco'... the list is long. The boat is called Kilimanjaro IV (it looks the same as the catamaran in this picture).

We get to Dar es Salaam in one and a half hours. Wroommmm...

I disembark into the crowd of local Muslim and Christian families, clearly distinguishable and equally interesting, students, foreign travellers, children. Babies are carried on the backs, I see a woman carrying a bag with five happy looking hens' heads sticking through the holes. We all wait until the luggage carts are wheeled down the ramp next to us. Everybody is moving, pointing at their luggage, some waiting peacefully for the luggage guy to get to it, others pulling their bags without waiting. But nobody is here to lie or steal. Then we push through more crowds, up the ramp and into the sea of taxi drivers, luring us. Hadji, my Z driver said that someone would wait for me, I don't see my name anywhere so I go with a guy with taxi ID around his neck, his car is not a taxi, but I feel he is ok. I negotiate the price to 30K and we set off. Then I ask him, for 5K more, would he drive me through the city centre, I want to see what it looks like. Sure, he says, he rolls down the windows, take pictures, no problem. Then we slowly drive through the busy streets and Kariakoo market, outside of the main building everything is sold on the streets, piles of fruit and vegetables, ready to eat food, clothes, shoes, bags, bathroom supplies, this is nothing, he says, today is Sunday, if it was Monday we wouldn't be able to drive here. Enough? Yes, I say, and he takes me to the airport.
There it turns out that he quoted his fee in US dollars, not shillings, which is what Julie confirmed at the hotel. I give him all I have, about 50K, it is close to his price and he accepts it. Then, I say, I don't have any shillings left, can you give me anything back for coffee? No problem, he counts 6K, here. I shake his hand and say goodbye to Tanzania.