I am beginning to think the show CHEERS is slightly based on my life.  I mean Woody did come up with a fabulous song for me and everybody does indeed know my name at least at the Serena Inn on Zanzibar.  I didn’t quite get it at first but after the friendly greeter, all the front desk folks, 3 people at the restaurant and the coffee guy all knew me by name I started to get a bit worried so I asked.  Apparently, I’m quite the inquisitive one.  The front desk people know me because I am always looking for a converter or a dinner reservation or a spa appointment.  In my defense, the only reason the pool staff know me is my massage therapist went searching for me after I was 15 minutes late.  Bathroom duty called and I couldn’t quite get back to my room and settled on the lobby bathroom.  It seems she didn’t think to look for me there.  I understand her angst in finding me as she would not get paid if I did not show but a bad dinner is a bad dinner. 

It’s sort of a riot every time I turn around someone is saying, “JAMBO Kelly” to me.  “You look SMART Kelly.”  “Where are you going today Kelly?”  My favorite is definitely, “JAMBO Kelly Hakuna Matata Kelly.” (Ha ha I just learned the Lion King speaks Swahili).  It means no worries for those of you not brave enough to sit through the classic children’s movie. 

I had a few additional laughs yesterday that I have provided you below: 

Did I mention it’s hot here?  I was in search for some nice cold water. 

Me to the bartender:  Do you have any cold water?

Bartender:  Yes we do of course.  What size?

Me:  What size do you have?

Bartender:  Small, medium and big liter

Me:  I’ll have the small

Bartender:  (without even hesitating) We don’t have small.

Me:  Why did you ask me if you don’t have small.  Oh forget about it just give the me the large I don’t want to have to come back here again.

After a hour and  a half walk through the town, I must have forgotten where I was because….

I walk immediately to the restaurant to have breakfast.  It did not even occur to me I was wearing running shorts because I had a long sleeve shirt on to avoid the sun.  To me that is my uniform.

I was promptly seated by the waitstaff.  When I walked over to the scrumptious mouth watering scrambled eggs and french toast I was excited to devour, a manager came up to me and took me aside and asked me to leave.  It seems I was not in appropriate attire for women.  I said I was sorry and thought that only applied to dinner (since my hotel book said that).  I glimpsed around the room and saw there were several women in tank tops and pajama like outfits and then it dawned on me…..I WAS NOT WITH A MAN.  Instead of fighting a losing battle, I retreated to my room showered and went back to breakfast donned in a full shirt and a skirt that covered my legs.  When in Rome…

It’s very hard to keep in mind my western ways don’t work on this side of the planet.  I cough it up to a proper learning experience and another example of how one must embrace the culture of others. 

Hakuna Matata

To keep you updated, I am at a very nice hotel in Zanzibar (Tanzania) for Christmas.  It has a shower which I was in much need of after walking in 100 percent humidity through zig zag streets and finding myself lost and found in the narrow alleys of the island.  I cleaned up and prepared myself for a Christmas dinner.  As I was not starving, it did not seem necessary to eat a 7 course meal for $75 dollars so I skipped the dinner and headed to the carolers from St. Francis Church at the waterfront cafe in my hotel.  It was a beautiful mix of Swahili music and the familiar songs of Joy to the World and Away in a Manger. 

Everything in Zanzibar is on Africa time which means there is no sense of urgency for anything.  I ordered lunch and it took 2 hours I ordered a pina colada and it showed up warm I ordered a mojito with no ice if it wasn’t purified and a bottle of water and I got a mojito without ice  and a bottle of warm water.  I gave up and settled for the bottle of water.  Since the waitstaff soon knew me by name and I was enjoying the carolers, I seemed pretty content with my evening.

That is of course until Robert from the UK felt the need to crash my evening.  Just because I have blond hair does not mean I am a damsel in distress here.  Robert asked to join me and being the nice person that I am I said sure.  After about 20 minutes of sort of mindless chit chat, Robert asked me to dinner.  I am sorry but he was crashing my hotel as he was staying at the $30 a night place and he was now ruining my caroling.  Yes I am shallow but I was more interested in enjoying the evening than talking to the 50+ year-old man from some place in England.  He was here on holiday for 6 weeks for the diving.  Poor Robert he tried everything in the book to get me to go to dinner or out for drinks.  After the fourth time, I told him I was tired and I was just out to hear the African music and the carolers.   His response to this,  “I think you look beautiful and you do not look tired.”  Well, thank you Robert but here goes the New Yorker in me.  “Robert, it was very nice of you to join me and I enjoyed chatting with you but you are clearly looking for something I am not giving so please excuse me as I am going to bed.”  At some point in the earlier conversation, I had mentioned I would be celebrating Christmas at the hotel where they are having all day festivities.   My initial blow off clearly did not work because he called me the international woman of mystery and then said,  “I am happy to meet you tomorrow night and take you to the Livingstone bar.”  WHAT?  ARE YOU KIDDING ME?  So I got up and walked to my room far away from Robert the ice cream truck driver.  I know I know…I never gave him a chance but when I set out to hear music and enjoy the silence of the sea that did not mean I wanted to be hit on.  My dear frined from grade school Kevin Cunnie would be very disappointed to hear I have learned nothing from his lecture about 15 years ago.  I’m not supposed to tell men what’s in my head.  ooooooppppps!

It’s Christmas in Zanzibar and I did walk to several Catholic Churches to see how they celebrate.  The African families are in full holiday attire in beautiful dresses and hats.  The masses are said in Swahili and many start worshipping at midnight and stay until sunrise.  With most of the population being Muslim, it was still nice to see the Christian aspect of Christmas here.  The rest of the people are carrying on like a typical work day.

Merry Christmas to all.