...It is true that a person will be afforded with more opportunities if they are allowed more space to do so. Yet, most of our experiences have been experienced by many before us. Does this cheapen the experience? No. For it is the subtle things that we see that others have not and that we have not seen that others have and wil that make every individual experience uniquely rich. Subtleties make all the difference.
It is from a chair (on which others have sat) on a porch (on which others have thought) in a hotel (in which others have rested) on a beach (upon which others have played and mused and wondered) swallowed by an ocean (upon which countless others have sailed) that I write these words and think these thoughts. But there was a wave just now which no one has heard lap up against the sand. There was a particle of salty air that was just now sucked up my nostrils which no one has ever breathed before. Subtleties.
This frees me very much to be able to write to you about the last two days in Zanzibar. There is no urge to make more valid my experience by demeaning the experiences of others. In truth, much of our experience is the same.
(It gets real stream of consciousness-y here. Really the only way to cover everything.)
Hurry up and wait. We entered the boat like olympians and came to the big couches-all small muffin trays. We made our way out to save ourselves from crusty tops and melted blueberries. The side of the vessel brought us near the water. The frightened passenger frew a heart for courage. No food was lost over the edge. The water a longing iris staring at it's lover. A head band pick pocketed. The rooks protecting the sultanate were easy to win over. Our guide off the boat appears like a great and wise ancestor from time to time, when the family needs his protection and advice. They were right-a different world. Arab architecture grabs your face and jolts your neck BACK Back back. The action is dangerous on those Narrow Streets. It felt at first a little like walking into an old Muslim story. I'm still waiting for my carpet. Wazungu are difficult people to see. I wonder if they think at all about the classification of TZ as part of the 6th world or about the overthrowing of the sultanate or of secession or of the oppression of minority religions (little girls in hijab, no legal protection, loss of inheritance, shit on the altar?)? I wonder if they have thought about the slave trade-Arabic European American? I wonder if they think we should reach a foundational level right away in dialogue between Muslim and Christian leaders or if the practical hands and hearts dialogue is enough? Have they hear of Upendo House-the non profit that gets Muslims and Christians together in a safe work environment to learn about each other? Or are they here only to disrespectfully wear short shorts and buy cheap wood and fruit and benefit from a nation of service? Am I?: That tinga tinga is cool. I do get a kick out of Christian Muslim relations. Are my fetishes just weird versions of the excess fetishes of the other wazungu?
As a tourist: Dinner after Upendo house was good but more expensive than it was worth. But Zanzibar is a food and spice island and the tall indicaions of that are everwhere. The day was 80 and sunny. We marketed after the food and bought art and some fresh fish. Probs the most delicious that I have ever had. The rainy wet narrow streets were excellently beautiful walking to our dala dala. The smell-not so nice but the sight of rain off the roofs gave me chills. Today we woke up with Ellen in the bed room. Off from her to breakfast-mayai and mikate. From here to the slave trade building and the Anglican cathedral whose steeple stands tall next to a star and crescent. The church is architectually and spiritually beautiful. Built by freed slaves with no experience so they could go get fundi jobs after the work was finished. The giant doors are hinged with large Indian metal swirls. There is a stained glass piece on the opposite wall of the baptism of the Ethiopian Eunuch. Very important myth here. When the doors shut it is brilliant. Back pillars are upside down thanks to the unskilled workers and all along the sanctuary there are stained glass windows offered to the heart by the comrades of Livingstone. Sting ray tails whip the backs of slaves and turn the marble red. Spice tour was good-no idea that stuff grew on trees.
After eating and drinking juice from a tangy purple seed fruit tree, buying some more art and letting Steve poop we went in a giant hurry to the coast.
We met the ocean in a light drizzle but no matter, I have never been so swept away by anything that couldn't verbalize mutual love. There was rain all day but I have not cared. We walked up and down her soft sand, picking up Zanzibari gravel which I will keep and give to church kids. I don't really know what to say. I felt like a child next to it. Beautiful. Wild and courageous. Loud and nurturing. Graceful and upset. I didn't even know what to do. I giggle when I look at it and want to be closer to it even now. The taste even captivates me.
After octopus and prawns, Steve and I night swam. Terrified of what touched our bodies, we moved far into the tide, up to the nerts. I kept putting ocean in my mouth and crouching in it's warmth and squinting into the distance. Obviously unable to see the waves pound the coral and bound by the reef. I wanted to stay forever.
I was stopped by Josef-a Moreni on the beach. At first, as just another Mzungu . Soon the Swahili turned back on completely and I told him about home and what we were doing. He is from Arusha but stays near Morogoro. He and his buddies came to sell bracelets on the island. I told him we stay at LJS and he said "Oh, you are KKKT? Me too!!!" Handshakes followed and I asked if he knew Mch. Yes! Of course. We talked about Morogoro as he called his friends over to tell them that I know Mch. They were all KKKT from Makature. We have been to this village. It is the one where we bought a goat for Philemon. We talked and joked for a while and ran into them several more times. It is so easy now to talk to and relate to Masai. I feel like friendships form quickly with them. It starts with their trust and welcoming and is continued by the fact that we know so many people in common.
The rest of the trip was spent in the ocean. Snorkeling was incredible and star fish move fast. We bonded over a beer with Luka and had a lot of time to reflect and watch the ocean. On the way back Peter fainted. We have learned now that he has Malaria. I hope it passes soon so he can enjoy the rest of the trip.
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