We board a prop plane and 20 minutes later land on the island of Zanzibar. We are all smiles (except poor Brian who has fallen victim to stomach woos). Our passports are stamped and I look for a ‘Brian Hyslop’ sign. I’d arranged to have the hotel send a cab to meet us. I’ve always wanted to do that! There he is! We load our piles of luggage (between us all there are at least a dozen pieces). The drive into our hotel amazes me. We come inches from hitting cyclists. After yesterday, I’m not as shocked by the driving but definitely notice. The road is flooded at one point fulfilling the classic stereotyped image I have of what roads must be like in developing countries. This is for real.
There is an ox pulling a cart. People carry baskets on their heads. Colorful clothes. I feel like I’m watching a documentary. The Clove Hotel. Lisette is there. I have been communicating with her for months over the Internet making these arrangements. Now I’m really here. We wait on the terrace until our rooms are prepared. It’s only 8:45 in the morning. Brian must stay behind as we head out for the first time to walk the streets of Stone Town. I’m sad for him. I assure everyone that though he seems miserable now, he will bounce back quickly and be raring to go soon.
Out on the street. As we turn the corner behind our hotel we immediately enter a narrow alley of shops – vendors at the doors ushering us in. Will and I gaze around like the wide-eyed tourists that we are. We spend hours in an antique shop. The proprietors are from India. It should be a museum. Will finds a Masaai bow and arrow that is 150 years old. He looks at me with, ‘I want that” eyes. The look on his face is one of disbelief. There are spears, voodoo fetishes and carved wooden headdresses. All look very old. Will buys the bow and is assured it can be wrapped for transport. We’ll come get it later.
We walk on. We find the Tinga Tinga artists inside ‘Old Fort’ (which is truly an old stone fort in the middle of town). We eat lunch outside and chat with shop owners. I find a painting I like but want to wait for Brian before committing. The artist paints the animals in small square panels like Patty likes. We are invited into another shop (more like a tiny room with stone walls and tall ceiling).
A man is painting a street scene using a metal blade. The painting appeals to me. The depth he attains and the blending of the subtle colors, various yellows, browns, and oranges impress me. He tells us about himself. His name is Jabar. A Japanese art instructor taught him how to compose. He creates two people on the ‘street’ as we chat. The painting is almost finished. He signs it. Will and I agree that we’d like it. Bill and Kristin have decided the same thing. Well. They graciously defer and we agree that we will buy it and check with Brian, if he doesn’t like it as much as we do, Bill and Kristin will buy it from us. We are so good to each other. We hand over $100.00. Some of the vendors here take US dollars and we haven’t yet gotten any shillings.
Bill and Will head to the dive shop for their first lesson. Getting their PADI’s. Kristin and I continue to wander the streets. We watch a ferryboat’s cargo hold being unloaded by hand. It’s a big boat. Hard work in tropical heat. I feel conspicuously privileged as we drink cold beer in the cool bar next door. We talk about Gombe National Park where Bill and Kristin live and about Wallauer perceived invincibility (‘refusing’ to be sick). There is talk of the chimp, Gaia, being alive, months after Bill and Kristin mourned her announced death. Concern for the future of the park. Deforestation. Poachers. We stroll through a street market showcasing every seafood I know displayed on long outdoor tables. Kristin suggests I not eat any of it. ‘What?!” Cathy torture. She is right, of course, and I am momentarily depressed. One man told us he’s been there since early morning. His lobsters look lovely reflecting in the late afternoon sun. No lobster for me today! We find a day/night teller and I withdraw TSH 700,000 (Tanzanian Shillings) all in 5,000 shilling notes (only about $300.00 US!). I walk out of the bank with my pockets bulging. Feeling conspicuous. Brian is still prone when we return home around 6:00. We are all tired and go to bed. Jet lag finally wins!
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