Zanzibar - the enchanted island

Exotic, romantic, charming Zanzibar Island. We spent our first afternoon exploring Stone Town's maze of narrow streets and alleys, soaking up an unfamiliar atmosphere and admiring the once-grand Arab-influenced architecture and the ornately carved doors -- wondering what lay beyond them in the hidden courtyards. We peered, as discreetly as we could, at the many veiled women and girls, whose large brown eyes peered back at us...but indirectly. Although Tanzania as a whole is about evenly divided between Christianity and Islam, the people of the Zanzibar Archipelago are almost entirely Sunni Muslim, and mosques are everywhere,

Historians tell us the islands of the archipelago, sometimes called the "spice islands," were visited well before the first century by Arabian and Persian sailors. Commerce flourished between the 12th and 15th centuries, with gold, ivory, wood -- and sadly, slaves -- being exported while spices, glassware, and textiles were imported. (I'm using Lonely Planet for my history research and trust it's accurate) The Portuguese came to Zanzibar in the early 16th century, followed by the British and then Omani Arabs, who claimed control and established the Omani Sultanate which ruled until Zanzibar became independent in 1963. Although its uniqueness is evident, Zanzibar and the others islands in the archipelago are now part of The Republic of Tanzania.

Who knows what vanilla beans and black pepper seed pods have in common? Both grow on vines that climb and wind themselves on host trees that also help shade them. An organized Spice Tour was the highlight of our first full day. At several plantations we saw cinnamon, nutmeg, and cloves growing and sampled exotic fruits such as rambutan. a delicious, funny-looking, bright red, spiky looking fruit. I had been told by a street vendor that it was lychee, a fruit I had only ever eaten in Chinese restaurants -- out of a can, I believe -- but it turns out rambutan is just in the same family. (In the photo, I'm also holding a nutmeg, the part in the center, which is covered with the lacy membrane from which mace is made. Who knew? )

The spice tour included lunch featuring a variety of spiced-up traditional Swahili foods. It was served in large, communal bowls while we sat in a circle on floor mats in an open-sided thatched hut and ate 'family' style. The last stop was at Mangapwani beach where we also had a chance to climb down into nearby caves where slave traders had hidden their captives when slave trading became illegal. (One source reports that more than a million East Africans were sold as slaves just in Zanzibar Town.)

Impressions along the road: the pristine-but-cumbersome look of Muslim school-girl uniforms, a Muslim woman covered in black head to toe but riding on the back of a motorcycle, donkeys ridden bareback by boys who were usually beating the poor beasts on the back with a stick to apparently coax their short legs to go faster, garbage heaps and the numerous goats and other animals eating it, and one scenario where a young boy was being slapped for sneaking a taste out of a big food pot cooking in front of his house.

On the advice of friends who had scoped out Zanzibar before us, we had dinner with live taarab music at Monsoon Restaurant.(The friends were there during an important 6-day music festival that my travel companions and I missed by just one day.) Picture a tastefully luxurious decor where patrons sit on plush floor mats and dine on delectable Swahili specialties while listening to music that might be described as Eastern/Ethnic/World Jazz. Lovely! Taarab evolved, and continues to evolve, from the blending of Arabic, Indian, and African music styles. Our four musicians were playing several instruments I didn't recognize, but the names I got from our wait person were these ... oud, yudi, ngoma, violin, and ghanuni.

The next day we spent some time in the typically colorful and hectic local market before visiting one of the several museums -- Beit-al-Ajaib, also called House of Wonders locally. Originally a sultan's palace, the museum gave us an overview of the history and culture, from dhow-making, to "kangas" (the traditional cotton wraps worn by African women; this particular Tanzanian version adds Swahili proverbs to the colorful patterns), to the story and memorabilia of Princess Salme, who defied culture and tradition by running away to marry a European and later publishing her autobiography (which I have added to my reading list. What a brave young woman she was!)

The ultimate in street food can be found at Forodhani Gardens, a large seafront park and social gathering place across from the Old Fort -- and that's where we headed for dinner. (But first we had free twilight entertainment, watching throngs of local young men diving, swimming, and doing all manner of acrobatics and antics.) Now for the food -- the aroma has taken us over. Neat rows of tables are lighted by lanterns or the fires on which vendors are cooking a cornucopia of Zanzibarian fare. Most tables featured seafood, which was beckoning to me, and a variety of meats and vegetables grilled on skewers. Several vendors were cooking made-to-order pizzas; these so-called pizzas I might call omelette crepes. A thin pancake is filled with eggs scrambled with your choice of cheese, veggies and chopped meat or seafood. Delicious. There were samosas, chips, breads and fresh local fruits and juices. My favorite juice -- even better than coconut milk -- was the freshly made sugar cane juice. Right before your eyes they push big stalks of cane through a hand grinder, then add a squeeze of lime and dash of salt. Sadly I resisted the lobster, choosing instead any fish that was most likely to have been catch-of-the-day. Why? Zanzibar was without electricity, except for privately operated generators, and had been since the underwater cable connecting Zanzibar to the mainland had broken two months earlier. It seemed wise to be wary about refrigeration of street foods. Fortunately most restaurants and hotels had their own generators.

On Day Four we moved to the beach. We took a "daladala" (overcrowded minivan taxi) to Nungwi, a village at the north tip of Zanzibar Island where tourists can choose modest, quiet beachfront cabins and relatively deserted stretches of sand (this was our choice) or in the other direction, flashy upscale resorts where a party atmosphere prevails. Many Italian tourists had chosen the latter. And all along the beach, to my surprise, were handsome young men dressed in the traditional red and blue garb and heavy jewelry of the Masaai tribe. Maybe a few of them -- the ones with stretched and dangling ear lobes --really were Masaai, having moved from inland Tanzania to cater to the beachy tourist crowd, but many of them appeared to just be in costume, ready to pose for Masaai "warrior" photos, sell you their crafts, or offer anything else a single woman traveler might want to enliven her holiday.

We spent a pleasant couple of days hanging out at Nungwi -- enjoying the blue, warm Indian Ocean, and taking long walks along the white beaches or through the small, quiet village where we shopped for "kangas." We also petted sea turtles at an aquarium/sanctuary at the far end of the beach. How about a few sea turtle facts? Green Turtles, one of several species there, are not really green but do get somewhat greener in old age. Of 1,000 hatchlings on the beach, only one or two make it safely to the water and live to adulthood, according to the attendant, but he said the average life expectancy for adult sea turtles is 60 years. They can weigh up to 300 pounds. The sanctuary protects turtles caught in fishermen's nets, returning them (and their babies) to the sea .

So, yes, Zanzibar is a special place to visit. I felt very "jambo" (welcome) and could have stayed longer. But now, it's time for us to take the ferry back to the mainland.