Chumbe - one day adventure

At Mangapwani - 6am after a long night of fishing (well, for these guys):






























RIGHT, now I am sitting at the roof top hotel using internet, having a drink, and spending some time with friends. It's nice and cool up here because of the wind. But it has been cooler. The past two days I have woken up to a rain storm. The heat has broken and is no longer as oppressive. The rain falls and everything feels better. It's weird how a change in the weather pattern makes a place feel so different. In the rainy season, farmers all over the island are more successful in growing their crops (mostly rice), growth for the rubber trees, providing fresh water and happiness - things like that. The rainy season almost means fertility here in Zanzibar and I get the impression that it's fully welcomed. At least I am welcoming it. I'm tired of 100 degree weather.
      We are in transition now. We left Pemba and have had two days back in Stone Town (I think that's the longest we've been here since kiswahili classes). We had one full day off and then today we went to Chumbe Island. It's about a 30-50 minute boat ride, depending on the weather. I think it was one of my favorite days. This morning started with a terrifying boat ride to the island - it was pouring, thundering and lightening. I was nervous. I purposefully put on my rubber flip flops thinking that maybe, just maybe that made me safe. 50 minutes of rolling waves later we landed at Chumbe Island. It is off the west coast of Unguja and much smaller than I expected. We started by learning a little bit about the island's history and the coral reefs there. This was a lesson from Hamis. HE WAS GREAT (for example, during our second lecture of the day he sang an entire lullaby song to us because we looked tired). Regardless, he knows his reefs! We decided to get in the water and not test our luck. It was the most amazing things. I feel like I'm finally comfortable enough snorkeling now that I can dive down pretty far, etc, and the act of snorkeling doesn't get in the way of me swimming with lots of fish. We saw many different species of parrot/butterfly fish, a large grouper, multiple large schools of beautiful fish, two sting rays and three sea turtles! It almost didn't feel real. At least not until I was swimming next to the turtle and realized I needed to come up for air. I think this was the best coral we have seen so far. The part we swam in was protected.
      We then went for a nature walk in the jungle and I saw a 400 year old Baobab tree! That's older than America! We saw mangroves, tones of hermit crabs, multiple species of trees with medicinal purposed and delicious fruits. We we're very excited for lunch by 2pm, to say the least. This was followed by another lecture about ecotourism and climbing the lighthouse on the island, before heading home. It was a fantastic day. It helps when everyone is super friendly. It helps when there is rain and sun. It helps when you're with great friends and get fed great foot. It helps when you can hear the 94 species of birds singing in the woods. It helps when the water glows nearly as much as the moon.
      During our boat ride back, I saw flying fish leap out of the water and drop back in yards away. I watched terns fish and dive - maybe for 20 minutes. I watched other sail boats out on the water with men hoping for a good catch. I watched the sun get lower in the sky and the colors turn to pastels.

And I watched everyone else on the boat watch them, too.

Pemba; moments

While in Pemba, we went to Ngezi National Forest - the wild, the jungle

While in Pemba, we went snorkeling at Masali Island - the most beautiful place on earth

While in Pemba, I had a home-stay family - a very welcoming one

Endurance

 It's about time... sorry if it's not well formulated – writing quickly.

For a short while we were all able to experience routine in our lives. Living with a family in Stone-Town and going to kiwahili/IMS lectures created a day that was more predictable. I realized that much of my overwhelming feelings about wilderness come from the fact that I simply am a foreigner here. The wild itself is foreign and after spending more time – being patient, I have now noticed its presence. We have watched the sunset at the beach many times. We have gone on trips to the coral reefs, and now we are in Pemba.

But a lot has happened that I haven't mentioned. Writing on this little computer doesn't seem too important – but I want to keep in touch! So here goes...

After our kiswahili exam and multiple days of going to Lukmans (where our meals usually cost no more than $1), we have moved out of our first home-stays. Mine was absolutely fantastic. Especially when my mama decided to host a party for the whole group! We traveled right the Mangapwani – a small fishing village just north. We all lived together as a group and had cultural immersion assignments. We cooked our own food and created most of our days – our long days. It's oppressively hot now. We're all anxiously waiting for the rain. Mangapwani was a rewarding trip. We were in four groups and each had our own topic. We chose to learn about land ownership/management. I really liked our topic. I thought it would be interesting because I wanted to compare it to what I knew about America. It's hugely different – at least in the way it's viewed. In Zanzibar, after the revolution the President gave everyone 3 acres of land. There are no taxes on the land. It was a gift. Most people have obtained their land for inheriting it from their family who received it. Some people borrow the land from family or friends. Some people borrow it from the government to work it seasonally. On the land, there is a general homogeneity about how it is used. The majority of the people are not just farmers... they are also fishermen, or teachers, or make lime. But almost everyone grows food on the land that they own. The number one crop is cassava followed by rice and bananas (all of which are exotic). When I asked people questions about conserving land or keeping it but not using it, they didn't understand. If someone has land, they will grow crops. It is food or money. The youth don't seem to be too engaged in farming. There were one or two we talked to in Mangapwani, but most people are older. Due to urbanization, globalization and tourism, most youth are finding jobs in other places (when they get our of school). All land is owned by the government. If the government wants to build a road or something, they buy the value of the trees/land off someone. A farmer needs to get a permit from the local government (the sheha) in order to cut a tree. Now, it is illegal to cut mango trees because the numbers are declining. Overall, people felt secure with their land. They didn't appear to be worried, at all, that the government might take it away.

I expected to feel anxious or uneasy about a practice with the land. I expected to be worried. But I didn't feel that way. All the people in the village know the species and work the land. There are a few problems now and ones that could effect the future, for example, soil fertility and the need for diversification of crops. It's amazing how connected people are. And most everyone feels the need to protect what feeds them. Also, I recognized how vulnerable these people are. They eat what they grow and catch – meaning lots of fruit, fish, a few veggies, and grains or sorts. But there is no infrastructure for the food. So, what happens if the seasons alter or they have a bad year or a new pest is introduced. There is no way to preserve/keep the food. They rely on their soil and rain every year. I also loved running in Mangapwani. There were dirt roads and trails through the trees. In Stone-Town... it's rough. It's also nice making running in the morning the routine. Between 5:50 and 6, it gets light out. At 6:10, the sun rises.

We had a one day transition in Stone-Town, at the comfortable home of Mauwani Inn. The next day we flew to Pemba. It's wildly different. First, it's hilly! Also, it is more rural and poverty is more prevalent. While in Pemba, we are fairly nomadic every day. Well, we sleep at our new home-stays but we go somewhere new every day. We have gone to see salt farming, a agriculture farm, the reserve for the Pemba flying-fox, rubber farming and production, walking through Ngezi forest reserve area, and typical house construction. The roads are really terrible here so every gets a big car sick and groggy. The neatest thing is that we get to see all of this in actions. We are taught by people who work there and see it all happening right in front of us. We make many conclusions for ourselves since they all know little english. For example, they have to cut down mangroves in order to farm salt near the ocean because they can't transport the water. The Pemba flying-fox population has increased but what happens if the government takes the land or it trees keep getting cut down? In Ngezi, since they don't do education for local students, how successful and valued will it be in the future? Will the children of Pemba still know the medicinal properties of all the trees here?

I am so immersed in this culture but I still don't know how to live here. It is getting easier and harder at the same time. My home-stay family is wonderful but it's definitely a challenge! I have no running water in the “bathroom” - just a hole in the ground. I am very thankful, though, for my fan. I have about ten brothers and sisters (I think) and the one who is my age (21) has a one month old baby. She doesn't go to school but I think she did. I got to talk to my REAL parents last night and we talked a little bit about what it is like to live with a new family, especially one that doesn't speak my language and speaks very little of mine. I have to trust. I have to let my guard down and participate in their life – their home. For example, all the sisters dance together. They want me to join. I could be embarrassed and laugh but sit and not let them see me, OR I could get up and dance. If they laugh, it's okay. Whether or not they are laughing at me doing it wrong or looking silly, it still expresses joy and I like it. It's fun and rewarding to put myself out there.

Today we are resting... I'm sick for the first time and feeling very tired, but feeling lucky, still, to be here.

Some things that are different and new:

• I have a new name. It's Leila. It means “night” or “time of the moon”
• I have a new family – either us 16 students or my families in Stone-Town and Pemba
• I only eat what is growing now. I love mango and I want more, but the season is over. I can't have it.
• Telling time is different. You have to add or subtract 6 from the time. Right now it is 10:30am... but really, it's 4:30... then I have to convert it into kiswahili. So, really, it takes forever to say the time.
• It just rained for the first time since I've been here.
• Being a woman here is not like being a woman in the states. I can't play sports and people stare when I run.

Becky, when I see babies, I think of you and Oliver.

Lots of love to all. Thanks for being patient.

-Leila

Kiswahili teachers:

Sunset at Mangapwani:

where is the wild?

      There is a hole. There is something that was a part of me before that I left and is now unfulfilled. It's a hole that's teased when we walk along the ocean or go snorkeling in the reefs. I think I know what's missing but I don't know why. At home- the green mountains, the Appalachian Trail, the coast of Maine, the view over Lake Champlain, the woods- the big, big woods. I knew where to go and what to expect. Therefore, I think I could deposit parts of me in these places. I could leave some of me there, knowing the place would remain and I would return.

      But maybe it's largely the separation that has created this hole I now feel – separation in two ways. First, being gone makes me feel the tug. I feel like I'm always slightly pulled, reminded, begged not to forget. There's a small ribbon attached to me and attached to the top of Mt. Chocorua, suspended over the Atlantic. The distance makes me think about the years, thoughts, and physical energy I put into these natural, spirit provoking places. These places are my familiar and I do know them. I do love them.

      Second, in Zanzibar, most all seems one to me. Probably because of lack of time, thought and physical energy spent here. But there is less definition here. Often, rules don't apply (at least the ones I know) and things chaotically flow as one. Cars, people, mopeds and bikes all move as one. Families live among each other, together, and continuously move around. People are always cooking, buying, walking. There is less separation between survival, society and nature. This is not to say that every practice is rhythmic and good. During any day, I have to think I am filling this neglected hole as I go and as I do one thing and another. I don't seem to have time to go sit on a secluded coast (at least, it wont be secluded. I wont be alone). I can't designate a day to hike a mountain or to swim and sit by the water. It's go time all the time in Zanzibar.

      But maybe people know how to step out of it and I don't. Maybe people who grow up here don't think nature is something you think separately about or designate certain time for. Maybe deep breaths happen frequently, spread throughout the day instead of segregated in chunks of time. And maybe more nature is recognized in people – family, friends and strangers.

      To be honest, I miss the chunks of time I spend with wilderness. I miss quiet walks in the woods. I miss knowing what I will likely see and what I may expect. I like feeling a sensation of comfort. I haven't felt that in a while. I miss Pennsylvania, New Hampshire and Vermont – even Washington State and Idaho.

      But I think I miss this largely because I’m in Zanzibar and I don't yet live like a Zanzibarian.

It's wild that one place can be so close to another in the world and yet function so differently.

It's wild that my home life isn't stopping – all things in Vermont, etc are continuing as they were before I left.

It's wild that I live in a city where religion is nearly uniform and government is seriously “unfair.”

It's wild that there are lizards everywhere – every house, every restaurant.

It's wild that I get woken up by Muslim prayers through the speakers and loud invasive crows from India.

The past few days have been harder – move along, move along. I suppose learning how to fill this hole here is my new goal.

    

comfort for change

Sorry for the delayed update.

Katie HD, I'm currently listening to “I'ma flirt.” Thought I should tell you. I do miss listening to music... and I haven't the confidence yet to join in on local musical circles and things (I'm just saying that... I have discovered as of yet, very little music in Zanzibar).

I have only been here for about a week and a half but it feels as though I've been here for at least a month. Our days are so full. We spent orientation in Paje (a small village on the other side of the island). We stayed in the most beautiful motel-like, resort-like place. The food there was fantastic and now that we're all back in Stone-Town, I can reflect back and know that was a secluded world... and the world a tourist and not student might see. Now being in my first home-stay, I realize that Paje wasn't the real world. There we talked a lot about logistics, had 4 hours of kiswahili a day and a few assignments that involved going into the village and going to the butterfly center/swimming with wild dolphins. After class we would go swimming in the ocean and we would until the very last minute (there it was was clean/safe enough... it's not in Stone-Town). Everything in Paje was comfortable. Now I am living with a family in Stone-Town, am still doing kiswahili lessons and have started IMS lectures and guest speakers. It is nice to be learning about ecology and the coral reefs now... SCIENCE. It is feeling more like school and I'm noticing time is going faster. My home-stay family is fantastic. I have a mom, two sisters and two brothers. They are all wonderful and extremely hospitable to me. It is a completely different perspective from the beginning of the trip- new food, new house, new family, new rules. I am still able to run most mornings. I am at my home-stay before going to kiswahili at 8am and come home after at 5pm. My first day at my home-stay was challenging, mostly because I felt slightly invasive and very distant. It was a hard day also because it made me miss my real home family. I showed them family pictures and drew them a map of the states so they could understand where I was. The kids love the slinky I brought them. They are so helpful and willing with my goal to improve my kiswahili.

Every bathroom I experience is an eventful one. Most bathrooms are holes. Luckily, my family has a toilet and I really appreciate it. The littlest one likes to teach me how to count in many other languages.

I'm finally starting to understand how to get around stone-Town... it's hard. No alleys are straight and you can never get a view to see where to go because you're surrounded by buildings – that is unless you can find the ocean... the beautiful ocean.

The other day we were all walking down to our IMS lecture and smelled the salt sea that was splashing against the wall. I instantly placed myself on the coast of Maine. It was a satisfying feeling but largely, I think, because I felt as though I could miss home in a healthy way. I missed New England but I didn't want to leave. Mostly thanks to everyone in my group being so fantastic. We get a long so well and are all transitioning to the culture in similar ways. I love how open minded everyone is.

Speaking of transitions: When I first got here, the locals were exciting. They would shout Jambo and invite, invite, invite us into their shops. It was all so stimulating. But after being here for a more extended time, I have had different feelings about it and my emotions have been responding more negatively. There was a 4-5 day period where my confidence walking through the streets did not improve but I could better understand the ways that locals were responding to me/us. That period of time made me feel foreign, angry, inferior, awkward, privileged, different and, in general, not good. I was mad that I was feeling that way but the United States is a bubble. I haven't figured out yet whether our approach to racial diversity is healthy or not. Racism is not tolerated. But I live in a world where nearly ever race can be seen. Here, I am so obvious. I just walk out my door and I'm OBVIOUS. Everyone that lives in Zanzibar is a Zanzibarian. Those from the mainland are even considered foreigners. We all frequently get called “mzungu”or (loosely translated to white -person. However, it comes from the kiswahili word meaning dizzy and THAT comes from being a westerner and traveling all over the world. I didn't really like walking around those days. I still feel parts of that. However, my confidence has changed, mostly through familiarity. I feel as though I know where I'm going and basic ways to avoid danger, etc. I am walking the streets creates a bit less anxiety. Now, as a group, we are starting to be known. For the most part we are now called “mwanafunzi” or students. It is probably because they recognize my skirt. I wear the same thing every day – mmmm. How I feel about myself in this country changes from day to day. It is always encouraging when a few successful sentences come out of my mouth in kiswahili and when people are accepting and responsive to me as a person and student.

LOOK AT OUR BOAT COMPANY during our first snorkeling excursion.. and look at that water..... :)