We’ve been “sleeping around.” Zanzibar and COS

I’ve been sleeping around…. Now that I have your attention, I’m baaack from “sleeping around,” the Ugandan expression for having been traveling and sleeping somewhere else…So yes, I’m happy to say I’ve been “sleeping around” in the wonderful world of sand and sea, blue waters, seafood, fresh breezes, pina-coladas, shopping and reading under the shade of a palm tree.

In the Ugandan vernacular, when you have been gone for a while that statement is, “You have been lost.”Yes – and it was pure heaven. I have now- unfortunately – been found back here in Uganda.We arrived back in Gulu finding neither power nor water. And several in our group came back with the flu.

But I digress. First – more about Zanzibar. How can I spend two years in Africa and not go to a place with such an exotic sounding name: Zanzibar! We went in a noisy troop of six irreverent women of a “certain age” and one brave husband.

Arriving in Kampala a day early because none of us wanted to risk the very real possibility of a bus being cancelled (it is not there) or a delay due to mechanical problems (it is spoiled) or just late (it is not there) we checked into our “home away from home” – the Annex. Disagreeing to some degree over when we should arrive at the airport (the women wanted to leave e-a-r-l-y to avoid the above mentioned list of possible calamities between Kampala and Entebbe, so we did and arrived with more than enough time to spare.

Now – for those of you who have ever griped about the NTSB procedures, which require everything from being X-Ray ed to being felt-up at the airports Stateside, please be assured things are worse elsewhere. Whereas this happens once in the US, it happens at multiple checkpoints in Africa. Entering, one puts everything on the standard conveyor built where thee is evidently some low-level scanning going on. Maybe a little feeling-up and wanding as you go through. Then – of course there is the standard passport checking, fingerprint scanning and distrustful immigration officer whose attempts at intimidation make one feel like you’re the spy-who-came-in-from-the-cold. Then – there is the wait. No gates are announced – one must intuit these things. This was all relatively painless however and we were served a cold, soggy beef and cucumber sandwich as a snack on the plane – so far so good.

We landed at Kilimanjaro airport yes – that Kilimanjaro – to get off the plane and wait around so we could get back on the same plane in 15 minutes to fly another land in ZANZIBAR. Our ride was there ON TIME – the first fabulous difference we have discovered being out of Uganda. we were taken to Santa Monica’s Hostel, a beautiful old convent turned hotel. This place was the site of the last know slave-market in Africa and the history is palpable.

Stone Town is known for its haphazard assembly of narrow, winding streets – and they feel even more tortuous to night. But we were a hungry tribe so found our way to a open place that served seafood, something we’ve all be salivating over for months now. We had lovely King Prawns and fell in bed happy travelers. Stone Town is a classic old Muslim village and it was such a welcome change to see happy, carefree children running and squealing with delight. Still, we had to dodge the ubiquitous motorcycles careening around blind corners, to get to shops filled with tempting wares from antique spice chests to Tanzinite, which I could not afford. It’s said the supply of Tanzinite will be gone in 5-years, but this might just be a clever marketing ploy. Also known for it’s amazing doors, it was hard to make it down an street without taking pictures.

Zanzibar is known for its doors, the design of which originated from the need to stop elephants before that rampaged through it – therefore – all were outfitted with long spikes. Now that elephants no longer go marauding through the streets, the spikes have become decorative brass knobs. The next day, we were wild to get to water and shopping and good coffee and as luck would have it all were found in the same direction! Stone Town, for all of it’s charm is still a tourist mecca so we opted out after getting our fill shops (it can happen).

The last night though we discovered the seafood-buffet that appears in the harbor every night. There are no words to describe it: hundreds of tables laden with skewers of every seafood known to mankind – fish of every variety – squid – octopus all dredged in spices.

Since we’d eaten elsewhere – being a little suspicious of seafood that’s been sitting out for god knows how long – I opted for a “pizza” of chocolate and bananas grilled on a Segiri. Interesting but not to-die-for.

Next day, after coffee on the beach we were picked up ON TIME (one could get used to this) and taken on a spice-tour before getting to our beach place in Paje. Something like old plantation grounds, it shared the land with a school and we were met by a gaggle of little Muslim school-girls who all wanted their pictures taken. I can’t believe how much we learned about spices and their plants. The Swahili meal was good and we took off for Paje and our hotel, Ndame.

Now, I’ve spent time on some beautiful beaches and this one has to fall near the top of the list: talcum soft sand and clear blue waters, protected by a reef line out to which you could walk at low tide. Tides on this side of the island are extreme, so at slack tide you can walk out almost half a mile.

The highlight of the trip was a snorkeling day which got off to a slightly rough start when we headed out on a old wooden boat with an unhappy motor. Fortunately, when it sputtered to a stop we were still close to the beach and after going back in for a new fuel line we somehow managed to be on our way. Slipping by a family of dolphins we were invited by our pilot to have a swim with the dolphins. This amounted to jumping in – in a mad clamor and swimming like hell to “follow them.” I know this will come as a surprise, but dolphins are faster than humans so it was a bit of a cluster, but still exciting to be that close in the water. I did manage to hover over a small school, including babies, at about 20 feet below me.

Having snorkeled in the Bahamas and Caribbean, the fish here by comparison were not the bright neon beauties I’d expected, but much more subdued in coloring and I’m a little curious as the evolutionary or environmental cause for this. Sounds like a Google question to me… Oh but it was glorious to be in the water again, paddling along over this very different reef. Starving by this time, we were taken to one of the most spectacular virgin sandbars – in the Indian Ocean where our trusty guides became to unload a table and chairs, a shaggy shade cloth canopy, four lobsters and a Sigiri. While we beach combed and marveled at the jaw-dropping beauty of this place, they grilled a spectacular fresh seafood lunch accompanied by cardamom rice and tomato curry. Heaven. On the trip home, we snorkeled for a few more minutes over a reef consisting only of flat flow-petal like formations. We arrived back just in time to wash the salt off and climb into slightly more civilized clothes to have dinner at The Rock. The venue was spectacular and the food mediocre (unless you had the lobster at $50/plate). That was July 4^th and I can tell you that everyday I spend here makes me appreciate the US – warts and all.

After days on the beach, eating like there’s no tomorrow, we headed back on July 7^th and were brought hard-back to reality as we got to the airport after waking at 4:30 AM for a 5:00 AM pickup and hour drive back to the airport. We were greeted with the news that out flight had been cancelled and changed to a flight that would – are you ready for this – leave Zanzibar, fly to Dar el Selam, put us on another plane which would fly is BACK To ZANZIBAR where we would then fly to Nairobi – and then – at some point – get us to Entebbe. Unable to explain why this was illogical, we finally worked with Precision Air and ended up being divided into three separate groups on three separate flights. Our little group of three spent 11 hours in the Nairobi airport, before boarding a 10:30 PM flight into Entebbe. It appears we are still in Africa and still dealing with air travel, despite the illusion that we may have spent time in relative order. While in Nairobi we witness a near riot of flight delays and had to admit, we sympathized. The good part of the flight was seeing Mt. Kilimanjaro out the port window.

Close of Service Conference (COS) was next and we road a rowdy bus filled with our compatriots to Jinga and discovered to our great delight that we would spend the next two days at a beautiful resort on the Nile. During our two years, we have lived like paupers, stayed a hostels sharing bathrooms and dormitory style hotel rooms so we were pretty happy to arrive at a real honest-to-god resort with beautiful rooms overlooking the Nile, complete with a bar, decent food and monkeys.

“Superlative” awards were given and and yours-truly was granted a dubious moniker. I accept this PC Emmy proudly and thank all the opportunities along the way to further tweak my vocabulary. Since some readers might be offended if I printed it and I’m trying somewhat to keep this “suitable for all audiences,” you will just have to wait until I get home to hear it.Suffice it to say, that a sense humor and a few well-placed bad words are necessary tools for the insanity here. The award will be framed and put in a prominent location in whatever place a call home next, lest I ever forget this roller-coaster-ride experience we call Peace Corps.

Still, after all this time one go from the pits of despair to the top of the mountain in a matter of seconds. And this morning as a friend and I plodded through ankle-deep mud from a beautiful all night rain and were cursing the process, we looked up to discover a huge herd of Ankoli cattle like the ones below being shepherded through the alley in front of my house. And in that moment, I loved Uganda… again.