Browsing Date

December 2008

Africa, Destinations

The Long Good Bye To ZanZEEbar

December 29, 2008 • By

So excited to leave this morning that I woke up at 6 am to take my final stroll along the Indian Ocean.  The neatest thing occurs on the PAJE side of the Island.  At 6 am, the water nearly occupies all of the beach but by 9 am the tide has retreated so far out you can literally walk on the sand about 2 kilometers.  It is truly an amazing thing to see.  The sand -white and clay like is slimy under your feet and all you can see for miles is seaweed and little pockets of swimming pools left for the local kids to splash around.  Seeing the ocean roll back like that gives you a feeling of what the world would be like without the water.  Mosesesque if you will.  By 2 pm, the water is back and the local women are done with their “fishing.”  To watch these women is incredible.  They line up waiting for the tide to roll out and they have like 50 foot long sticks that they take into the water.  They are searching for octopus and other edibles.  When the women start to walk back, you know the tide is about to come back in.  If you are wondering they leave their fort of sticks for the ocean to wash away.

I spent the last two days at a place called the Dhow Inn.  It’s owned by a Dutch man and run by a young charming Dutch woman Karima.  Should you find yourself in Paje definitely pay the hotel a visit maybe just don’t ask for the “cottage.”  I met Karima through my new found friend Kirsten who accompanied me on the ferry from Dar to Zanzibar.  I’ve decided after meeting many Dutch in the last two days there is definitely something in the water there.  They are all tall and beautiful and incredibly sweet.  They treated me like a friend they had known forever. 

After sorting things out this morning, Karima, Kirsten and I headed back to Stone Town so I could catch the Ferry back to Dar.  We were very short on time and I needed an ATM.  Note to self:  Don’t try to get money anywhere on a Monday.  Many of the locals were trying to harass me about the ferry ticket.  Karima with all her hutspa of a local tore through the crowd and started speaking Swahili to them.  TAKE THAT…..no more being the victim. She even made fun of them thanking them for the escorts to the windows.   Unfortunatley, we were too late and I had to settle for the 4 pm ferry. 

The ferries here are known as the barf ferries or at least that is what I call them.  And they did not disappoint this afternoon.  In the blazing sun,we board the ferry.  Now answer this for me: Why is the AC on before we board but the minute we get on the shit goes off?  I was thankful to have a seat and I settled in ready for the journey.  In the back of my head, I was slightly worried about the empty seat next to me but whatever.  Low and behold my seat mate turned out to be a man missing his legs and smelled like vomit.  I’m sorry I did feel bad for him but I felt worse for myself.  I tried very hard to contain myself but after my glands in the back of my throat started to water I had to think fast.  Since I tossed most of my products to carry a lighter load, the only thing I had to sort of alleviate the problem was baby powder.  After all, breathing into the holder of my blackberry wasn’t going to last for 2 hours.  He clearly sensed my dismay and moved shortly thereafter.  ok ok I’m a bitch.

You know you are in trouble when just after 30 minutes at sea, the crew starts passing out little black garbage bags for people to puke.  Combined with the body odor and now barf I thought I might puke myself.   I just kept thinking breathe in breathe out.  Alas, I survived.  Got to my $36 a night hotel and now I’m planning my next journey to the Serengeti and Mt. Kili.  All and all I met some nice people and had a great time in Zanzibar.  Also learned rich assholes are the same in every country no matter age and sometimes the best people you meet are the ones when you are the most dire.


Africa, Destinations

Dear Mom:

December 28, 2008 • By

Since I moved from Stone Town to Paje on Zanzibar, I need to combine my updates as I am without a computer (just trusty blackberry).

As I celebrated Boxing Day in Zanzibar, I was reminded of the following:
CNN International sucks. I mean do we really need to see,”Planet in Peril” on holiday. I think not. If I’m wasting away in Tanzania, tell me the gorillas and wildebeests are going to be extinct and the snow caps on Mt. Kili are disappearing after I get home.

When ordering your entree and dessert at the same time, make sure to specify which one you want first because spiced ice cream before samosas just means you will then need another round of gelato.

When I started traveling in 1996 to places like France (give me a break I was 22), I would tell people I was Canadian and I would even recite their National Anthem and list the provinces and try to say things like eh at the end of my sentences. That is no longer necessary. Now I’ve got a secret weapon. I’m from Chicago. Guess who else is from Chicago? (Before you answer that please think twice). The one and only Barack Obama. So much for the Canadian flag. Americans just need to plaster Obama 08 on their suitcases and backpacks. “Hey where are you from?” My response, Chicago, which instantly garners a BARACK OBAMA.

You are all probably wondering why the title of my post. Let me share with you an email I sent to my mother yesterday and it will definitely clear things up (Jack and Jill -yes those are their names- did receive equally alarming emails).

From me to Joyce via email…

“Omg mom I might really die. On other side of island. Beautiful white beaches sort of what u think of Indian Ocean.

But no room at the inn

I’m at boutique hotel and may have mentioned I was on a budget so I am literally staying in a hut. No bathroom no windows but it does have a mosquito net which I will also be throwing mine over since I see many holes and not the ones so I can breathe.

It is 35$ a night however. It is clean and this place is nice but omg can I survive? I’m not sure. I can’t piss in the sand all night. I think if u saw pics u would say it is gorgeous so not sure how to explain the rest except that I am a city girl and don’t camp and this isn’t really camping I mean its a wood hut on stilts. 2 days here and I’m off. I just found out that flights are cxld for rest of week. It’s africa what can I do. I guess ill have to take ferry back to Dar and fly out of there what an ordeal that will be. I think i might have jill or jack book me some tour to get me out of here.

Arusha is apparently fine. I’m not even in a town here. And I was a snob and didn’t want to take 2 hour hot bus here so I paid 60$ and now I have like 50$ left and there is no atm and no one takes credit cards. If I get out of here, it will make a good blog story otherwise ill let the sharks eat me and take my chances.

I mean I don’t need fancy but I do need a bathroom and electricity.
Don’t worry.”

Joyce back to me overnight…

“Kelly, Dad wants you to stay at better places, don’t worry about the money. We are sitting here talking and I said I probably won’t recognize you in another week (I sent her a email with self-portrait of me in my mosquito net and hut. Clearly cause for concern). Love to you, ps I never liked camping either, Mom”

Thought I would share.

I did make it through the night but I had to pee so bad that as soon as I deemed it light enough to crawl out of my patched hut which the birds had been gnawing on since 430 am I ventured to a public toilet. I will be skipping the public shower aka the janitors closet.

After I get back to reality, I promise to pass on my other African observations. I had to keep a journal of those during my current crisis.

KG