So I Shagged a Tribeswoman

So here we are. Three months and three weeks ago my friend sent me a text wishing me a safe journey and that he looked forward to my blog entry entitled...well, what this blog post is called. It is almost surreal that I am leaving Tanzania. This past four months have been four of the most amazing, fun-filled, eye-opening months in my life. Anyone who has been following my Facebook or my blog will already have an idea of how much I have loved this experience. I have taught some truly adorable children at Gohechi. I have read and talked about some harrowing moments when researching FGM. I have met some of the most amazing people from all over this globe: Australia; America; Canada; Belgium; France; Denmark; Sweden; Norway; Holland; Germany; Japan; Mexico; and, most of all, Tanzania.

I have learned so much while I have been here, about myself and about the world. My bucket list has expanded far more than I have managed to tick off in this four month period. I have seen the natural beauty of Manyara, Ngorongoro and the Serengeti, of Maji Moto, and Zanzibar. I have seen the beauty of the people here, the local people who try and make you feel as welcome as possible, and the volunteers who are here to really try and make a difference in the lives of the people the come into contact with.

I went on safari, I snorkelled with dolphins, I lazed around on a pristine beach in a five-star resort. I did the things that everyone can do, and usually do, when they come to this part of the world. But I also sat in front of thirty Maasai elders in their village to hold an intimate discussion about their culture, I was a guest at another Maasai village where they sacrificed a goat for our shared feast, I went to the United Nations Internations Criminal Tribunal for Rwanda. How many people get to say they have done these things?
I am lucky to have been given the opportunity to do these things,  blessed that I grew up in a family, in a country, where I was given the opportunity to get to where I am now, a university graduate who has taken a year to travel to a different part of the work before he heads to law school writing a blog on his £300 laptop. £300 that I can blow on a piece of unnecessary electronic luxury which could pay for two years of schooling for a child here. We have so much given to us on a plate in the West. In the UK, free education and free healthcare, huge I-max cinemas and excellent sports facilities. Here in Tanzania, they pay for school and hospital treatment and if they can not afford it, they don't go. A large number of the people can not afford luxuries like going to the movies or out to eat every fortnight. The children play football on patches of flat land littered with stones and thorns.

If you, dear reader, are thinking about doing something like this, or know someone who is considering travelling or volunteering, then don't hesitate. Do it but do your research and find the best volunteering programme and company for you. I was lucky in choosing Projects Abroad and Tanzania for my experience. You should not have to take that chance. Volunteering and living with a host family is such an awesome experience and I wish I could live these last three months again. That feeling of stepping off the plane, alone, into a foreign country where you do not know the language and gearing yourself up to call it home for a substantial period of time is a scary one but one that I will keep for eternity.

I talked about the volunteers in another dedicated post but I have to mention them again. On Friday, I was ready to go home. My friends were all leaving or had left. I was looking forward to getting back to (hopefully) working and earning some money. But then I went out on Saturday and met some new volunteers who have just arrived. And now I want to stay. I have learned over the last four years of being thrown into situations where I know no one, first at university and secondly in Tanzania, that I love meeting new people and that I am a social person. All the volunteers are similar and that is what makes it so easy to for me to be able to change my mind so quickly about leaving.

There are so many things that I miss about life at home: watching TV shows like House, Community, Game of Thrones; going to the pub; broadband internet; looking for a new phone; playing computer games. All this stuff that I look forward to doing when I'm back that really does not matter one bit. But I still want to do it. Travelling to a poor country really opens your eyes to how materialistic our lives are but that does not have to mean that one should totally abandon that way of life. I still want a good smartphone. I still want to play FIFA with my brother. I still want to catch up with the TV that I have missed while I've been away. I just hope that I will appreciate the life that I can live.

Mombasa

So I've spent a week in Mombasa, the place where my parents grew up. Not that I've seen much of it. I stayed at a small hostel called Mombasa Backpackers. Small but complete, with its own pool and garden area, a bar with cable TV, a foosball table and a cafeteria. I've spent most of my time lazing around by the pool enjoying the free Wi-Fi while taking occasional dips in the pool and ordering food. Our outings consisted of: going to the local shopping mall which housed a rather posh cafe/patisserie called, imaginatively, Cafesserie; a trip down to the local Nyali beach; a trip to the more distant Tiwi beach; and a tour of Fort Jesus and Old Town.

And that's about it really. Fort Jesus was quite nice but the tour of Old Town was rather short and pointless. Much of the architecture and history is pretty similar to Zanzibar. Oh, and one of my friends got mugged. We were just walking down this street and she was walking a bit behind the rest when we heard a scream as some man grabbed her before running off. It happened so quickly and, as he ran off, he let go of her bag thus leading me to believe he had given up when I had turned and shouted at him. Unfortunately, the man had been doing it for all his life and I think that the whole bag grab was a distraction from the necklace. Fort Jesus itself was impressive as we were told it had been carved out of the rock rather than assembled.

For the most part though the trip has been about chilling out and meeting other people. And that is what I have loved most about my time travelling in Tanzania and Kenya. I wrote a blog post not long ago about the fellow volunteers that I became such good friends with but in the last two and a half weeks I have also met some really interesting and awesome people while in Zanzibar and Mombasa. It's included eight Canadians, seven Brits, four Norwegians, two Germans, and two Americans among others. Staying in backpackers dorms, travelling alone, one really has to be able to be open to saying "yes" to everything. Everyone is friendly when you stay in places like these because, much like the first day of university, everyone is usually in the same boat. At Kendwa I was invited to join two Canadians and an Aussie for dinner. At Mombasa, I already knew the two volunteers I had joined up with and, although I just hung out with them for the day, on Saturday night we joined the rest of the Mombasa Backpackers crew in heading to the casino before hitting a club. The casino was a enjoyable affair and it was  here that I got to know the Canadians and the Norwegians. Oh and I also left having doubled my money on roulette after hitting three numbers in a row as we geared up to leave. Not the most culturally rich experience I've ever had in another country but fun nonetheless. We then headed to a nightclub to dance until 5am at which point we headed back to the hostel and jumped in the pool. I managed to get to sleep at 7am for a couple of hours before getting up for breakfast and heading to spend the entire day with the Canadians at the beach just chilling out.

For the most part, Mombasa was about sitting around enjoying the heat and the sun, playing the occasional game of foosball and jumping in the pool. It also served as the catalyst for helping me accept the fact that soon I will be home. Sure, I will miss all the volunteers and, even though I will want to come back to Tanzania as soon as I step off the plane at Heathrow, I now want to go home and reimmerse myself in some of the trivial first world problems that I have been away from for almost four months. Silly things, like what phone I'm going to get to replace my HTC Legend (probably a Samsung Galaxy S3) and watching TV and movies again. Staying in Mombasa, where there is not much to do, allowed me to think abuot all the things I want to do when I go home. Things like learning a new language, attempting to teach myself the guitar or relearn some piano, start building a proper fitness regime. I need to look for a job again and start applying for another round of training contracts in the Autumn. I want to go to a sushi buffet with my cousins and drink ale and go to dim sum. I want my dad to cook mussels or prawns or lobster noodles. I want to start cooking myself again. So many things I want to do, so much money I need to pay back and then save. It might turn out that there are not enough hours in the day. I know that I will need to keep myself busy when I reach London though, otherwise I will spend the entire time wishing I was back in Arusha. 

Pole Pole, except when you're on a coach...

So, with a heavy heart, I left Zanzibar behind. I had loved my time on that beautiful island and was extremely tempted to stay in Stone Town. We took the ferry back from Stone Town in the morning and met three other volunteers going the other way. They almost convinced me to go back! Instead we parted ways, also discovering that I would see them again when I got back to Arusha, which was nice to know. The Danes and I went to a fast food joint for burger and chips before they went to pick up their stuff. And then I had to say goodbye to the second and third volunteers that I met in Arusha. Again, it sucked.

After I left them, I headed to a hotel and booked my bus ticket for the following morning to head to Mombasa, Kenya. I spent the rest of the day crashed out on my hotel bed watching re-runs of the German and Spanish domestic cup finals. Dar Es Salaam is too big to wander around like you can in Arusha or Stone Town so, knowing no one, there was not much for me to do except sit, watch TV and meditate (a.k.a. staring at the ceiling fan wondering whether if it fell, would it kill me).

The following day, I woke at five-thirty in the morning in order to make it to the bus by six. Useless, as the bus did not leave until six forty-five. The ride to Tanga was smooth enough but hot as the sun rose into the blue sky. As we pulled in to Tanga, the bus stopped to let the passengers off the bus. I was pretty tired at this point, as I had been on the bus for about six hours, so I stayed seated on the bus when I heared a loud jeering sound coming from outside. As I looked out my window, I saw a young woman attempting to get her luggage out of the coach's hold surrounded by these howling men. Unsuccessful in her endeavour, she was guided back to the bus by one of the staff members and they went to get her bags for her. Now, she was a fairly attractive lady, sporting a fairly unique hairstyle, with pretty nice clothes; I assumed she was a celebrity of some sort. When they had recovered her luggage, the porters and staff began escorting her out of the bus station to yet more boos and whistles as the mob followed her. I turned to ask one of the other passengers why that had happened and he simply told me that it was because she was wearing a mini skirt. It had never even occurred to me that the commotion was because of a simple piece of clothing. It was a stark reminder after the Westernised experience of Breezes and Kendwa that I am still in a vastly religious country that can be offended by such things that are trivial in the West.

We left Tanga behind and began our trip towards the border which, after the excitement of Tanga, was rather plain. When I reached the border between Tanzania and Kenya, I disembarked to get my visa. There were a few people ahead of me in the queue and some had problems with their Tanzanian visas expiring. Overall, it took maybe twenty minutes for me to get my visa as he refused to see me before the other troublesome people, even though I had all my documents ready and open in the right places for him to stamp. As I walked outside, there was a huge space where my bus was parked. They had driven ahead to the customs checkpoint. This was fair I thought, as baggage checks can take a long time. As we drove in another bus to the next point, there was a large billboard asking travellers to report any signs of corruption immediately. I rejoined my coach but discovered that they had already taken my rucksack to the customs office and I needed to go there to pick it up. As they checked my bags, they took me to another room to explain that I could not take the spice boats that I had boat into Kenya as they contained coriander seeds which may not have been treated. In stark contrast to the sign outside, I was immediately asked to pay a 300 Ksh bribe to be allowed to take them through. I didn't have any money at this point and for some reason he just let me through anyway. When I returned to where my bus was, lo and behold, it had left me behind and driven off towards Mombasa. I was pretty pissed off at this point. They still had my large backpack in the hold. In the end, I had to get on the bus of another company with the representative of my bus who had stayed with me. The road was bumpy and I was frustrated and worried that my stuff would be stolen. I arrived in Mombasa at seven at night. I was exhausted and needed Kenyan shillings. There was no ATM nearby the bus station so I had to exchange money with one of the bus companies who royally ripped me off. I was past caring at this point and just collected my bag from the office and headed to Mombasa Backpackers.

I arrived to find my two friends chilling out at the bar and I managed to stay awake for another hour before crashing on my bed. It was not until the next day that I realised that my hat was still on the bus that left me at the border. I booked my trip back to Arusha with a different company.

Life's a Breezes

Okay, small confession. I treated myself to two days at an expensive resort. It's, technically, way over my budget but I wanted to reward myself for three months living in Tanzania, enjoying the highs and putting up with the lows. Of course, I have my lovely parents to thank for the loan but when I get back I will repay every penny.

The place is called Breezes Beach and Spa Resort, located north of Bwejuu on the east coast of Zanzibar. Before I arrived, I was picked up from Paje to head off on a dolphin tour with three other volunteers, who were also staying at the resort and who convinced me to stump up the money for the two days. The dolphin tour was a great experience, seeing the dolphins and swimming with them but the trip was marred slightly by two factors. Firstly, I had not had any breakfast and, secondly, there were so many boats filled with wazungu chasing these amazing creatures that when you did get in the water, visibility was almost impossible due to the spray thrown up by the motors. That said, hearing dolphins communicate underwater was incredible.

Anyway, back to this resort. The place is a collection of classy bungalows and two story houses, all in a Swahili style. There is a computer room and TV room but no TVs in the actually rooms themselves, a nice way to leave the commotion of Western life behind (also this is really a place for couples and honeymooners so they probably have better things to do).The rooms all had air conditioning and double beds, with a couch and coffee table as well as some seats on the porch to enjoy the cooler evening air but I spent most of the time down by the beach or pool, crashed out on a sunbed, either chilling or reading my book.  There is Wi-Fi access around the lobby, bars and pool, a fitness centre with tennis court and a spa. All this right on the deserted section of beach. Being on the east side the differences in the beach at high and low tides is amazing. High tides crashing agains the wooden steps, low tide revealing hundreds of meters of sand, rock and seaweed that you can take a walk across.

The first thing we did when I got to the resort is head down to the beach just to chill out and get rid of my horrible t-shirt tan lines. Luckily, my time in Kendwa had all but done this for me, so now was the finishing touches. Also, it gave me the chance to crack on with the book I've been reading. For the record the book is called Why Black Men Love White Women by Rajen Persaud The story behind this is that we were walking by a bookstore one day and they had this proudly displayed in the window. My friend found it hilarious and I vowed to buy it and read it. So I did. Billed as a comedic look into the relationships between black men and why they covet the white woman, the book is actually a lot more serious than that. It has its funny moments and it doesn't really tell you much more than anyone else with an interest in race and media. That said, having just finished it, it was an amusing read. It must have looked extra strange, though, when both my friend and I were reading the same book at the same time. The book itself was of great interest to me, especially as an ethnic minority and although the Chinese race has not suffered in the same sense, historically, as black people in the Western world, we still have to put up with being negatively stereotyped in media and culture. It was interesting because I could look at the book from a completely different perspective than, for example, my white friend.

Anyway, while at the resort we played an hour of tennis and the girls went for massages but mostly we just chilled at the pool, swimming and sunning ourselves. We were half-board and dinner was a posh affair, no shorts, preferably a shirt. We were seated by a waiter and given an introduction to the set four course menu.The food on the first day was sublime, with crab cakes to start, followed by grilled aubergine with courgette puree; we had grilled fish and risotto cake for main and a tropical fruit puree with ice cream for dessert. The second day was a Swahili buffet with the usual chapatis, ugali, nyama choma, samosas among other stuff.

It was great to just relax for a couple of days in a posh resort. I could really get used to staying in places like that. Gotta get a well-paid job first, I think.

Sun in the sky, sand under my feet.

Zanzibar is beautiful. That is pretty much all you need to know.

For the first two days I stayed with some other volunteers in Stone Town, the heart of Zanzibar. The town is a maze of little alleys enshrouded on both sides by tall three story buildings. On one side, you have the water; on the other, you have the market and dala stand. We arrived in Stone Town in the morning, taking a one and a half hour ferry from Dar Es Salaam, costing us 20,000 shillings (£8) as we were residents with our Permit Cs. I arrived in Stone Town to a phone call from my roommate telling me that the previous night, there had been riots and a church had been burned down. The authorities were advising people to stay away from the place. Always good to get off to a positive start. We met our guide outside the harbour and he took us to the hostel we would be staying in called Jambo Guest House. The hostel was really nice, triple rooms with fans and mosquito nets. We paid $15 per night each including breakfast. We dumped our stuff and proceeded with a tour of Stone Town, with the guide showing us the different ornate doors that front some of the houses. The doors are huge rectangles boarded by carvings, sometimes chains to signify slavers, sometimes circles to signify pearl divers. Across the Indian influenced doors, metal or wooden spikes jut out three to four inches in order to prevent elephants destroying the door.

We were shown the old palaces and the beach front before being taken to the market. There were three parts to the market. Fish, fruit and spices. The fish market reeked to high heaven, the fruit market smelled like heaven and the spice market was an amazing assault on the senses. Our guide took us straight to one stall, which he said was the cheapest one. The owner, Saleem, was extremely friendly and the prices were unbelievable. 1000 (40p) Tsh bought you a small bag of coffee, tea or spices. 3000 (£1.20) bought you a big bag. I didn't have enough money on me at the time so I told him I would come back the next day with some other friends and, as a gesture of good will, he gave me a free small bag of coffee. Sure enough the next day I went back and bought 28000 (£11.20) shillings worth of spices, including some garam masala, fish masala, a big bag of saffron and twenty vanilla pods for 10000 shillings (£4) each. I also bought some spice boats as presents for 2000 shillings each and got one free. When I went back the next day to buy some stuff for the girls, he gave me two packets of chilli powder. What a nice guy!

On the second day in Stone Town, we went to Prison Island, a small island used as a quarentine centre in the past. Nowadays it is a luxury hotel and tortoise sanctuary. Again, due to our permit Cs, we only had to pay 2000 shillings to get in. Seems like I'm making some of that $500 back! After taking in the island we headed out into the rain and rough seas for a bit of snorkeling. Now I've never been snorkeling before, so it was a new experience for me and, being pretty much blind, I realised that if I ever take up snorkeling or diving as a hobby, I needed to get my own stuff made. However, it was a great experience and seeing all the brightly colour fish and starfish was brilliant.

The third day, I joined two of the volunteers on a spice tour where we visited a plantation and were provided lunch. As it rained heavily during the tour, we were forced to take shelter and it gave us time to meet some of the other people on the tour. There were three British lads who had just been to Kendwa with the other volunteers and they could not speak highly enough of Kendwa. They and the volunteers pretty much convinced me to go. Anyway, the spice tour was a good waste of a day; it was interesting enough but not anything special.

In the evening on all three nights we went to the night market, which was a collection of stands out by the harbour selling food. I tried the Zanzibar pizza, multiple seafood kebabs (baby shark, tuna, kingfish, lobster, octopus), samosas and a shwarma kebab. The prices were not particularly cheap for Tanzania, the market clearly being aimed at the huge number of tourists that grace the island, but the food was good enough and didn't make me sick at least.

On my fourth morning being in Zanzibar, I parted ways with the remaining two volunteers who were heading back to Dar and over the border to Kenya before one of their permit Cs ran out. I headed north on a privately hired shared taxi, which was pretty much a luxury dala. Pulling up in Kendwa, I headed to Kendwa Rocks where I was told to book a dorm in order to avoid paying an entrance fee to Saturday's full moon party. I booked my dorm and was given a card. The card was the way of paying for everything while using the restaurant, bar or internet while staying at Kendwa Rocks. Its is extemely handy, that I can leave all my money in my bags, but also, for some, it can be a very easy way to spend a lot of money. Thankfully, it's not all irresponsible as the resort does give you receipts with every purchase letting you know how much you are spending.

The first day I was there, I met a local guy from Usa River who showed me up and down the beach, where to eat locally and where the supermarket was. At lunch, I headed to the restaurant with my book to finally have some sushi again. I had eight pieces of tuna sashimi and eight pieces of kingfish nigiri for 15500 shillings (£6.20). I read my book some,while trying to rid myself of my T-shirt tan, and then met two Danish girls who I had gone on the spice tour with when I headed to the bar for happy hour (or four as it lasts from 3-7pm, cocktails 5000 shillings (£2)). For dinner, I had soup and chicken chapatti, which is basically a chicken wrap with chapatti replacing the tortilla. We then headed over to the neighbouring bar which had music and people. When I say music, they played Rihanna's discography separating each song with another European chart hit from six months ago. I left at about two and got back to my dorm where I fell asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow.

My second day in Kendwa began with a buffet breakfast, which wasn't much of a buffet because I arrived too late to get more than one helping. No matter. Spotting the two Danes again we hung out for the day, lying in the sun and swimming for a bit. I got burned but not badly. I had tuna teriaki for lunch and a few cocktails at happy hour, ginger mojito being highly recommended. The Danes left to continue their travels and I headed back to the dorm for a rest, a shower and to get ready for the full moon party. Back in the dorms, I met two Canadians and an Australian, who invited me down to dinner with them where we joined a few others. It reminded me somewhat of when I had first got to Arusha. You find a bunch of people with something in common, language, living arrangements, how little time you've been in the country. The night started with a special barbeque grill, where I treated myself to half a lobster and buffet for 38000 shillings (£17.20) which was delicious. Then the table took it turns to get to know each other and what we were all doing in Zanzibar, which turned out to be a mixture of volunteers, travellers and people on breaks after business trips. Traditional dancing, drumming and an acrobatics show followed, which wasn't anything I hadn't already seen in Arusha or on safari at Lake Manyara. Then there was a dance crew or three and a Michael Jackson...dance-a-like? He was okay, though it was annoying that he mimed everything. Why pretend to sing like MJ if you can't? Just give up the pretense and conentrate on dancing. However, once that had concluded the party really got started as the DJ broke out dance classics like Karma Chameleon and various songs by Wham.  The full moon party began to get going at midnight or thereabouts; I've taken to leaving my phone back in my bags so I had no idea what the time was. Before I knew it is was three o'clock, or at least that's what my last receipt says. I think I went to sleep pretty shortly after but it might have been anywhere from 3:15 - 4 a.m. It wasn't what I had expected. I think I had expected it to be one of the Greek islands, possibly due to the number of Brits in Kendwa, in Africa. But in fact it was a lot more chilled out than that. Most of the people here were here to chill rather than get blind drunk.
I've really enjoyed my time in Zanzibar so far, and on Monday I head off to the east coast to join the other volunteers. From what I hear the east is devoid of people and a great place to just chill and relax. All that I need to do is find a cheap place to stay. Until then.