Zanzibar at last: Part 2
The best time to experience Zanzibar, at least during Ramadhan, is in the evening. The days may be dull, humid and dreary, but the island comes alive at night, more so at Forodhani. I discovered this three hours after setting foot on the island; by then I had parted ways with my German companions, found my host, Ahmed and cruised around the island in his car; met Muumin, a local tour guide who would be showing me around during my stay, gone to my room, freshened up and napped and was now ready to get a proper taste of the island.
My initial impression on arrival was that, Unguja looked nothing close to what I had dreamt. I had always imagined that it looked somewhat like Lamu, with narrow
sandy streets and buildings that took one back in time to the days of the
sultans. What I saw instead were streets that could have been anywhere – the
exotic feel I had expected was going to be a mirage, but I could live with
that. What I did like about it was the hospitality and friendly brotherliness of everyone I met - it all made me feel at home. I also liked that my room had a balcony and window overlooking a neglected building – not much of a view, but the few palm trees
towering over it and the houses surrounding it built in the traditional coastal
design gave me a sense of being on an island.
Muumin came to get me at 7pm after iftar (breaking the fast). We would be walking to Forodhani Gardens, the nightly centre of attraction, through the city centre and the labyrinth of narrow roads through Stone
Town and into the food market at Forodhani. Earlier, that evening as we docked at the harbour, there had not been much activity going on at the gardens, but after sunset, the area came alive with a bustle of activity from food vendors, tourists and locals swarming the gardens to get a piece of the action. The warm orange light from the gas lanterns and sizzling sounds off the grills added to the lively atmosphere that interspersed beautifully with a breeze from the sea. Muumin and I shuffled around the stalls, he making small talk with the food vendors, while I sampled what I would have for dinner. I settled on a Zanzibar
pizza, freshly-squeezed sugarcane juice and a bunch of deliciously red Shokishoki –an
indigenous fruit from the lychee family, with a tasty white pulp, for dessert.
I watched as the vendor rolled out the dough, put it on the grill and made the pocket-size pizza. Then I sat on the edge of the sea wall overlooking the waterfront and savoured my meal of
choice. This sure had to be a people-watcher's paradise, I thought, as I took in the splishing and splashing of the young men and boys diving and
swimming in the cool waters below. Muumin explained that in keeping with
abstaining from worldly pleasures during the holy month of Ramadhan, people
could only take a dip at night. He suggested that I also cool off in the
sea and made as if to give me a mock push over the edge and into the waters
below, as I squealed in frightened laughter.
After dinner, and as we made our way through Stone Town again Muumin regaled me with tales of Zanzibar and why the young men were fed up
and wanted independence from Tanganyika. He left me after making sure that I was safely inside my room, and tired I curled right into bed and drifted to sleep.
Muumin would be back in the morning to take me sight-seeing around the main Island.
Part 3 coming soon.
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