Oct 22nd-Oct 26th: Visiting the Island of Zanzibar

Not a travel brochure or a book about Africa is devoid of reference to this island of spices, splendor and enchantment. Novelists have employed Zanzibar as their backdrop landscape. Its white sandy beaches and turquoise shores and the promise of wealth have lured visitors, explorers, lovers and traders as early as the 14^th century—and more recently the rich and the famous as well as foreign investors have gobbled up swathes of pristine coastline to construct exotic and luxurious resorts as play ground for the westerners.

But the island is notoriously known for its Arab slave trade during Omani dynasty; cloves trade, hence the island of spices; and the early visitors—Persians, Portuguese, Indians—and colonizers—Germans and British. Its charm is not in its present lure of vacation getaway for the wealthy. Its enchantment and romance is in its history, its coastal Swahili culture, its taarab music, its fishing villages and iconoclastic dhows, its peoples’ exotic heritages and mannerism, its food and ancient architecture of multi-storied crenellated cement dwellings with large engraved wooden doors and narrow and labyrinth streets that shun the daylight. And lastly, the alluring and enticing women folk, covered in black buibui, who flicker their seducing khol lined-eyes at you.

Time slows down, as it were, in Zanzibar or Unguja as if the narrow streets, the enclosing buildings of Stone Town, the heat, the bright light of the day and lingering humidity from the Indian Ocean, warp it, and induce or cast a magical spell of infectious lethargy. It is an echoed experience among mainlanders—and others—who arrive here by a two hour smooth ferry ride from Dar.

Approaching Unguja from sea, the first sights are of white washed walls of palaces, now museums or tombs, and public buildings with intricate wooden balconies, along the harbor front, where ferries, sailboats, and classic dhows with lateen sails are anchored. Palm trees and coconut groves intersperse grimy old forts, constructed as fortification and slave markets. Men in Kanzus and Kofia and women in bui bui walk about unperturbed by new arrivals pouring into their streets.

Along the harbor front is the Forodhani Area, an open grassy field where at night the place is transformed into a bustling market place, selling curios, artifacts, food and drinks; a meeting place for the locals who languish in the cool air along the ocean front. Kerosene lamps, naked bulbs and tube lights illuminate individual kiosks and food stalls. The air above Forodhani fills with sweet aroma of roasted fatty juices of beef and seafood: crabs, calamari, prawns and fish. At the edge of the grassy area is the Café Zorro, and in the middle an open rotunda, offering its open area as a congregation for youngsters.

Out at sea anchored sailboats and ferries sway in the gentle waters, their dim lights shimmering in the balmy night.

I frequented the area every night and devoured the local delicacies: mishkakis and Zanzibari mix, a dense soup made of Indian Bhajias, yellow coconut curry, and flavored potatoes.

From Forodhani stretch along the ocean front, narrow dirt streets lead and fan into the Stone Town. UNESCO has declared the Stone Town as an architectural and historical heritage site and exhorted its preservation, and since then donor funded preservation projects are underway to refurbish dilapidated and historical buildings all over Zanzibar. Its Asiatic charm is being restored for it is the jewel of the island; it reflects and embodies peoples' cohesiveness, warmth and hospitality.

Far from the Stone Town paved roads lead to distant parts of the isles where, after the liberalization of the economy in 1992, foreign investments from South Africa and Europe have contrived another Zanzibar—not for its local people, but for westerners and tourists—with luxurious resorts along its pristine coastline to the north and east of the island. It is, indeed, a play ground for the rich.

Yet it is essential for the economy and job creation. Tourism and the hospitality service industry are the largest employers on the isles. Foreign language schools—Italian, French, Spanish, and English—are a cottage industry, and being a tourist guide is what most youngsters aspire. Secondary education, one disgruntled drop out student lamented, is in pathetic state. He said, “Classrooms are full of students, but no teachers, no facilities. I dropped out, and am learning French and Italian so I can become guide during the tourist season.”

During the summer international festival like ZIFF (Zanzibar Internal Film Festival) attracts international attention, induces cash flow and fosters seasonal employment for the locals. But how is the average Zanzibari benefiting from this inflow of cash? All goes into the private investors said one source, and a sliver of it is received by the government in form of taxes, but how much of it goes into the national treasure is questionable. Even if paltry does, it never trickles down into improving the basic facilities for the masses. You will have to ask for accountability and address that with the Minister of Tourism, my source chucked cynically.

Poverty, lack of education, poor health services and insufficient infrastructure issues are no different than the mainland. Just that one does not see them on the surface—they are rampant in the poor areas of the island, and so is the spread of HIV/AIDS., but the presidential administration’s recent national campaign on HIV/AIDS education is a positive sign of social work, both on the mainland as well as on the spice isles (Zanzibar and Pemba).

Like any cultural chasm and apartness, the people of island pride themselves to be different from those of the mainland, not any different in the US between those of the mainland and people of Hawaii. And that cultural disparity and its ethos is well captivated by Paul Theroux in his book Hotel Honolulu, just as well by the Abdulrazak Gurnah, the exiled Zanzibari native, in his novels about the people of Zanzibar. Reading Gurnah gives one a fictional account of its various peoples’ histories during the colonial as well as post colonial era.
For those lyrical or poetically inclined, Taarab music, a combination of African, Arab and Indian influence, is melodious and seductive. Often heard at night during summer at open concerts at the Forodhani or music festivals at the Old Fort, now converted into an open restaurant and semi-amphitheater, the musicians with their ensemble of instruments and entourage of voluptuous women dancing, gyrating and singing can be uplifting and stimulating to all human senses.

As is often the case that the islander views the mainlander with suspicion, so it is between those from Unguja and Bongo, yet they coexist harmoniously as each needs the other, like symbiotic organs.

For a stressed and overworked visitor, Zanzibar offers tranquility and serenity: an exotic equatorial paradise; to a student of human character and history it offers past in its architecture, its poetry, its music and its exotic people—and their ways and habitats, which are intensely and picturesquely captured by a famed photo journalist Javed Jafferji in his book Images of Zanzibar.

A glimpse into the spice island.