Zanzibar in Brief

I'll have a longer post soon, I'm just eager to show pictures. I hope it makes sense...I'm a little distracted with my first mild food poisoning. I tried to put up more pictures, but am giving up on the internet connection for now.

Zanzibar was breathtaking. From the narrow streets and intricate Arabic doors of Stonetown, a UNESCO World Heritage Site, to the delicious smells of the spice tour and the white sandy beaches, the island is amazing. It's not quite Tanzanian--there's actually an active independence movement, but really worth a visit. There is a much more valuable tourist industry here than on the mainland, other than maybe the safari circuit of the north. There are so many more Wazungu wandering around. Locals often greet visitors with "Jambo" and "Hakuna Matata" phrases rarely heard in Dar and probably never heard by locals. They say the "Swahili" terms tourists expect to hear. They put on a show, but its a profitable one.

One of our Spice Tour guides showing off a dye and me showing off my "Tracy Chapman hair."

One of the coolest things you can do on the "spice island" is go on a spice tour to see where they grow and sample ginger, saffron, cinnamon, vanilla, coffee, cardamom, and many fruits. I'm loaded with teas and spices to bring home. I also stocked up on Zanzibar scarves. The Muslim island has made an industry of lovely, light scarves that can cover your head.

A coconut tree climber singing "Jambo Bwana" and dancing for us on the spice tour

As for my hair, it took forever to get done, hurt for the first fews days, and took a while to get used to, but I think I like it. I'm a little uncomfortable getting called "Rasta" mainly because I once heard a Hampshire student rant about white people pretending to be Rastafarian and not understanding the religion or culture. I don't like pretending I'm anything I'm not...or I'd just tell people I'm Chinese and make it easier on myself. But I've decided to put aside my overly PC Black Studies major sensibilities and take things as they are while I'm here. So maybe I'm being a cultural appropriator, but I won't worry about it now. My friends have dubbed my hair "Tracy Chapman hair" and for the next month, I'll be rocking long, black, plastic braids.