Author: Lina Marie Dyur
Zanzibar’s Stone Town is a UNESCO world heritage
site and I couldn’t wait to wander along its narrow alleys touching fabrics,
smelling spices and trying on clothes in quaint shops. In spite of assurances
that Zanzibaris spoke English over and above Swahili, I saw embarrassed looks
and heard smatterings of Swanglish when I engaged people in English. Suffice to
say that language was only one reason this trip was memorable.
I landed in Dar (Dar es Salaam)
from Nairobi completely
culture shocked by the way things were done in contrast to Kenya. I came to see
Stone Town – the only
functioning historical town in East Africa, and a UNESCO world heritage site. First,
there were too many immigration officials. Seven of them were inside the glass
booths, and five, seemingly senior ones, wandering about among the queuing
passengers. You’d think this would mean speedy service. Shock on me; it was a
case of too many confused cops spoiling the broth and resulting in frustrated
travelers. How a man, albeit uniformed, can take one’s passport and particulars
without a word and disappear with them behind an official-looking counter is
beyond me. I suppressed my nerves and pretended to be utterly confident. The
way these officers ‘consulted’ with their superiors, a step behind you so you
feel the pressure of first class graft, smelled of ass-kissing 101 to me.
The surprising development was that instead of transferring
travelers to Zanzibar, visa
issues were now dealt with in Dar. Amazingly, even with the incredible loudness
of the airport, an entire desk of five officers were taking a nap and when
spoken to by confused travelers, responded as though they were being intruded
upon while in their living rooms.
The flight from Dar to Zanzibar was brief with a beautiful
scenery barely visible under the cloud covers. We landed at the city’s small
airport and after a currency exchange exited the airport to negotiate our
transportation into the city.
Our cabbie Yusuf was a vocal man with a barrage of opinions.
Having been in his profession for twenty years, he was persuasive to the point
of pushy, at once encouraging us to go North and gradually make our way to
Stone town over two days. After we voiced our preference spend all our time in
Stone town while in Dar, he voluntarily made inquiries and took us to “better”
options than Jafferji Hotel for accommodation, which he opined “was too dark
inside anyway”. According to Yusuf, the pictures of Jafferji Hotel’s rooms on
the Internet were misleading and most people left the hotel disappointed. He
sent us off with maps, though not without first confusing us with his search
for cheaper accommodation (By the way, I am the queen of frugal). When he
insisted on a larger tip for the ‘extra service’, needless to say, Yusuf left a
bad taste in my mouth.
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| Zanzibar's Dongwe Ocean View Hotel, Tanzania |
The dinner -- chicken in macadamia nut sauce -- was
spectacular, a real treat. It was served with sticky Jasmine rice and a light
tomato salad. I combed the menu for local dishes and treats to sample and was
laughed away when I asked about traditional Tanzanian food. We asked the
waitress to put off the TV, which coincidentally aired news by Citizen
Television, a Kenyan television station. In a matter of minutes, a different
waiter put it back on, attracting a group of hotel staff to watch. When another staff member put on the radio,
so both the television and radio were playing at a go, I ate quickly and left.
The second day we moved to Serena. At just under 300 dollars
(US) per night, the inn was centrally located in the heart of Stone Town, and
for that fee I was expecting death and going to heaven, in that order. Ah well,
it wasn’t heaven. In fact, we got the room right next to the reception area,
which in my experience with hotels, is usually the worst and noisiest room. Our
room was dark with shadows at 10am. When I inquired about getting another, they
said they couldn’t replace it until midday ‘if I hadn’t used anything’ as the
rest of the rooms were being cleaned. We decided to stay.
Other than the soaps and shampoos in little British bottles,
there was nothing worth the 300 dollars (US) in the room. Actually, that
evening, when we went to relax by the beach, we came across sewerage that stank
and was overflowing right at the front of the hotel, hence the bus shuttle to
the ‘special’ beach for hotel residents.
The pool was divine blue surrounded by little white sculptures and sun
seekers. The 4pm tea was a good idea, even though I’d expected a lot more than
just pancakes and tea -- the 300 dollars (US) kept coming back to mind and
raising my expectations to high heaven. The next morning’s breakfast, though,
was to die for. The range of food to eat was superb. I have not devoured such a
beautiful breakfast in my life, except maybe at Fairview Hotel in Nairobi,
which is a story for another day.
After a quiet day, we went to Forodhani Gardens in
the evening, where food stands sold cheap but wholesome dishes, including mshikaki,
barbecue chicken, lamb and beef, fries and other starch, with a refreshing
drink of sugarcane juice laced with ginger. People hung about in large numbers
relaxing by the beach and socializing across social and cultural class. I
marveled at a boy who, assisted by his mother, peed directly into the Indian
Ocean, while holding on to an old cannon.
The third night we moved to Emerson Spice, for 200 dollars a
night. After a delayed but friendly check in, we went off on a delightful spice
tour. It was informative, as the ‘Ujamaa’
socialism ideal is still alive -- Ujamaa was the concept that formed the basis of Julius Nyerere's
social and economic development policies in Tanzania
after independence from Britain. My hosts kindly allowed me to use the very clean
community traditional toilet while we explored the spice farm. A small irritant
was that the service people were on standby for tips. It irritated me as I’m
not from a tipping culture. Where I’m from, a tip isn’t expected; it’s only
given if a service is really extraordinary.
On our last night, we got lost and couldn’t find our way
back to the hotel. I wished I’d brought the mobile phone the hotel had provided
us for emergencies. Determined to find our way, we belligerently ignored the
old man who volunteered to bring us back to Emerson Spice until we were sure of
being truly lost. We begrudgingly agreed to follow the old man’s lead back to
the hotel. When we got there, I hung my head in shame at his shrill complaints
of dissatisfaction with his tip as we walked into the hotel lobby. A few
flights of steep stairs later, I went into my exceedingly large room adorned
with posters of old Zanzibari films and fell asleep, ignoring the calls of the
large cement tub in the bathroom.
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| Stone Town, Tanzania |
Our early breakfast was served in the small rooftop
restaurant with a panoramic view of Stone Town. The small fruit platter left me
disappointed. The kitchen didn’t have an alternative to eggs (to which I’m
allergic and miscommunication left me thinking there was a following course
after fruits).
The
airport in Zanzibar had a sign saying ”Hakuna Bakshishi’ discouraging tipping,
though it didn’t stop people from lurking about waiting to be tipped for doing
something as mundane as indicating the correct queue to be in. And so we
boarded our plane and left the Zanzibari paradise for the familiar comforts of
home.
Lina Marie Dyur is the founder of Firestorm, a communications, marketing and PR company. Originally from Kenya, Lina currently lives in Qatar where, in addition to her entrepreneurial pursuits, and working as a freelance journalist, she is also repositioning herself as a public speaker and Afropolitan with the ability to say ’yes’ to new experiences - including bungee jumping over the Zambezi River and quad biking in the Middle Eastern desert. Lina can be contacted for questions and comments at info@linaconnect.com.
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