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Day 11-14: Zanzibar

Today we leave for Zanzibar. This enchanting island off the coast of Tanzania has had a dark past, but today is blessed with its rich culture, spices and diverse population.

Up until 1964, it had been ruled by various peoples ranging from the Omani sultans to the Portuguese and the British. After a violent revolution, the African inhabitants of Zanzibar overthrew their Arab rulers and signed an accord with Tanganyika uniting the island with the mainland and eventually forming what is now known as Tanzania. Today, the island remains semi-autonomous with its own customs control, House of Representatives, and President – although I’m not quite sure how all of this works in practice.

To this day, Zanzibar remains an important trading post. Again, the presence of large ships and smaller boats was quite overwhelming, but I later discovered that the smaller ones were also used to get to the islands nearby. This included Pemba, the second largest island in the archipelago, the Prison Island which is host to huge tortoises and the Chumbe Island with its beautiful lighthouse and rich coral reef. If you’re looking for something a bit different, the third-largest island called Tumbatu which used to be famous in East Africa for its witch doctors, but not many tourists are seen there because one needs special permission to enter. The Tumbatans – while proud and individualist people – have very little interest in strangers.

One can’t fail to be captivated by the wooden dhows that glide gently on the waves and form beautiful silhouettes every night as the sun sets in the horizon. I must have taken a few dozen pictures of these boats, although I’m still unsure how many thousands of pictures I’ve taken so far. All I know is that my 32 GB memory card is almost full, which can’t be a good sign since this trip is far from over and I have nowhere to unload them

After having rested for a few days we finally took off with the hotel’s shuttle down to Zanzibar City (aka. Stone Town), the capital of Zanzibar. The town reminded me of Harar, another ancient city I had visited on my previous trips to Ethiopia with its long narrow streets, large Muslim community and a genuine feeling that you were walking through history itself.

We were greeted by a local guide called Steven at the dropping point and set out to explore the town. I must admit, the burning sun wasn’t doing me any good, but I tried to stay in the shadow as often as I could.

At every corner we were asked to visit someone’s shop, but we respectfully refused. The town, while quite small, would take us the entire day to explore. We saw the old slave pits and the huge cathedral next to them built on top of the spot where slaves were sold a few centuries earlier. It’s still hard to imagine that this island has had such a dark past, but then again the entire concept leaves one wondering how any of it was possible in the first place.

We proceeded through town visiting the local fish and spice markets. We moved on to see the Palace Museum which had been constructed for the Sultan Seyyid Said. The view from the roof was spectacular. You could see all the small boats moving about or idling and waiting to take passengers to designated locations. The Sultan had picked a good spot for his mansion, although British navy ships damaged it during the War of Succession in 1896, otherwise known as the shortest war in history. Luckily the outside structure was preserved and the palace could be restored to its former glory.

We were also tempted to visit the House of Wonders, which too had fallen victim to British navy shells, but decided to take a break and sit at terrace of the Africa House for a few drinks instead and fill out some postcards. Steven left us after having given a superb tour of the town. Later we would have lunch at the Serena hotel. This was a luxurious hotel, equipped with their own pool, beach, restaurant, shop/café, etc. In other words, a parallel universe of its own. By the time we had finished eating, it was already getting late and we still had an important task to do before heading back to the hotel: shopping.

We decided to shop at three stores; Memories, Oneway and the Zanzibar Gallery. The latter was set up by Javed Jafferji, a freelance photographer, to promote his work and to sell various books and works of art. The two former ones were, I believe, part of bigger chains since I had seen a Oneway shop in Dar Es Salaam as well. Strangely enough, if you search for shops in Zanzibar online these three tend to pop up everywhere, but the others, well, I can’t seem to find them.

All day long, the local shopkeepers had tried to persuade us to buy their products, but we ignored them since we were in a rush. At the end of the day, I suppose it was ‘easier’ to shop at these three places, because they were close together, they sold quality products and we could pay by credit card. Convenience vs. inconvenience, commercial vs. local, ordinary vs. the unknown. We had been caught by the tourist phenomenon which plagues so many local markets; huge chains and shops set up specifically for tourists so they would only need to go to one place to satisfy their thirst for things to bring back home. These shops were swarming with foreigners and before long we had become part of the flow.

We headed back to the Old Fort where our shuttle would hopefully be picking us up to go drive us to the hotel. On the way, a young man tried to sell me some psychedelic shirts, saying that he had not been able to sell any all day, but I told him no. Not because I didn’t want to, but simply because I wasn’t interested in what he was selling. These streetsellers are a common phenomenon across the globe, but here in Africa, they’re a constant reminder of how unbalanced things are in the world today.

I started to wonder what it would be like if my livelihood depended on trying to sell various products to tourists who came to town every day and couldn’t seem to care less about what I was offering. I also wondered what it would feel like to see them flee to these air-conditioned stores and come out carrying bags full of stuff O might as well easily have sold them myself for less, if I had known what they wanted. Then I realised I’d probably just give up and move on to do other things. After all, this island was full of things to do.

The problem with tourists is that they hardly ever know what they want. They go into these stores, look around and soon their hands start randomly grabbing stuff off the shelves that look nice or glow with a sense of authenticity. While most products are hand made, they are sold for twice the price and one can only wonder where the surplus goes. The contrast between these shops was also quite obvious. While the ones with a reputation needed only to keep their doors open and have the cashiers quietly waiting for the next customer, the local storekeepers were desperately trying to lure people in. That in turn might make people feel intimated as opposed to being welcome at a place where they can freely browse and spend their money.

Payment methods are also an issue. Most tourists would rather pay by credit card when making purchases and save the little cash that they have left for tipping and situations where they are forced to use it. I don’t see why anyone would want to walk around with a big pile of money in their wallets. Many of these local shops are therefore at a disadvantage, but that will all change soon. I had already seen a few internet cafés around, which to me is a clear sign that things are moving along just fine! I have a feeling that next time I visit Zanzibar, things will be a lot different and it can only get better from here on.

While we were waiting at the square where our shuttle was supposed to pick us up, some of the local taxi drivers were trying to lure us into their cabs by saying our ride had already left. One even tried guessing our location pretending to be from the hotel, but as expected, our driver Pierce arrived right on time, not a second earlier or too late. He smiled when we told him what the guys at the square were trying to do and said it wouldn’t have been the first time someone had fallen for that trap. We came very close to getting into one of those cabs and would have ended up paying extra for a ride that had been pre-arranged with the hotel. I’m sure that taxi drivers are having a hard time getting customers, but lying to people over isn’t going to earn them any credibility.

The next morning we finished packing and headed back to the airport where we would board an Ethiopian Airline plane and fly back to Addis Ababa via Dar Es Salaam. We left Zanzibar having only seen Stone Town and the Mbweni ruins next to our hotel, but I had a feeling I would come back there someday to explore the rest. It felt in parts like the Ibiza of Africa, only much cheaper, much more authentic and with so much more to do. It’s a shame we missed the "friendliest festival on the planet", which would have taken place in February. Our timing was a little off, but maybe next time I’ll plan things differently. I’m sure it would have been a festival worth seeing and hearing.

The flight was a bit longer than the other way around, since it had to land back in Dar first to pick up more passengers. Immediately after stepping out of the airplane in Addis, I was happy to be back. The cool breeze was a blessing after the tropical heat we had just endured in Tanzania. It was actually so cold I needed a jacket, but that of course was tightly packed in my suitcase. We made it – and indeed, why wouldn’t we? This had been one of the most exciting trips of my life.