The view from my room at Baby Bush Lodge, Kiwengwa on the east coast of Zanzibar
At the beginning of November we celebrated Eid el Haj with the Kitwana family, the Muslim celebration of the end of Haj to Mecca. The celebration began with a huge washing session in the lake (of clothes and people) and afterwards the cooking fest started. First of all was a huge breakfast of cookies, cakes and chipati, washed down with chai na maziwa (sweet, milky spicy tea). Then the cooking for lunch started – pillau – probably my favourite Pemban dish. In many ways it was just like Christmas at home, with all the children dressed up in new matching outfits, lots of special food, napping and watching television.
Everyone dressed up for the evening celebrations
After lunch we gave all of the family presents, gifts to say thank you for looking after us so well, but also to celebrate Eid. Everyone was chuffed, especially baby Sahle who loved the wrapping paper so much he cried when we helped him unwrap his etch-a-sketch, so we had to wrap it back up! It also proved a good distraction for the rest of the day, with everyone occupied with their new gifts. We also found that fart jokes are universally amusing, so spent much of the rest of the time in Pemba giggling with the girls.
Sahle and Sada with their presents
In the evening we took the children (or rather they took us) to a children’s festival in the town. These are held in all villages and towns all over Pemba throughout Eid, and basically comprise of street food stalls, cheap Chinese plastic toys and hoards of children. There are almost no adults there, which is a strange sight, but it was no way near the chaos hundreds of lone children would have caused in the UK. Anyway the girls seemed happy to show off their ‘wazungu’ to all their friends and introduce us to different kinds of street food, most of which were yummy – even including ice cream!
Pink ice cream to match the Barbie dress
The rest of the holiday was spent visiting various family members, who all greeted us with strong coffee, cakes and biscuits, more trips to the children’s festivals (for which a new matching outfit was brought out for each of the children) and helping Mama with the cooking. Sumaya, the eldest daughter, taught me to make chapattis, which is a much more laborious and time consuming task than I had realized. I don’t think I have the kneading skills quite down yet, but maybe during unemployment back home I can utilize my new skills.
Learning to become cheif chapatti chef
Once Eid was over and I had wrapped up the final project documents and evaluations it was time to say goodbye to our friends in Pemba. I had been on the project for 12 weeks, and it was sad that my work was finally over, but I was also ready to move on. Although I loved Pemba and got on with the people I worked with, there have been a number of frustrations and issues in setting up the project that really have to wait until the next project to be resolved. All I can say is I hope the project gets the go ahead next year and continues to develop – Pemban schools really need support, especially in English language, and have little overseas support, so volunteering such as this can really benefit (www.tenteleni.org.uk).
Now we were ready for the next stage of the adventure however – four weeks of travelling in Tanzania mainland and then back to Zanzibar for some R&R. First stop was the Ngezi Peninsular at the northern-most point of Pemba, the area most noted for its beaches and sea life. Getting there was quite an adventure though. From Chake Chake we threw our bikes on a dala-dala for the two hour drive to Konde, the furthest north they go. From there we strapped our luggage on the back of the bikes and cycled the 15km to the Swhaili Divers resort through Ngezi Forest, an indigenous tropical forest home to monkeys and a huge number of birds. It was a great adventure along a dirt path, much of which was flooded, and then to finally arrive at the beautiful resort (www.swahilidivers.com). Everyone was surprised to see us arrive by bike, and by the evening everyone knew us as the crazy girls who cycled here! A quick dip in the sea and a gin and tonic (or few) was awaiting us on arrival, much to our relief.
Perfect sundowner location
For the next four days we studied for our open water diver qualification, the first two days were taken up by theory DVDs, tests, practicing skills in the swimming pool and a final exam – which we both passed with 100% - A* pupils! Then finally we were allowed in the ocean. The first time in the water was incredible, once I had mastered breathing normally and could look around. The visibility was amazing, with a huge array of fish. Over the next two days we completed four dives to different reefs on that strip of coast line. Our final dive sight was named Aquarium – it was easy to see why – there were fish and coral as far as you could see and it felt like someone had artificially made everything brighter, beautiful!
Some above water activity
From there we made our way back to Chake Chake, collected our belongings and flew over to Tanga on the Tanzania mainland, from where we hitched a ride with an expat couple to Lushoto in the Usumbara Mountains for a hiking adventure. Our bodies had no idea what was going on, in a few hours we had been hurtled from sweaty humid sea level to freezing temperatures at 1,500 meters – although finally the jumpers I’ve been carrying around for months came in handy. We woke up to beautiful scenery and a totally different environment to Pemba. The first day we walked about 10km to a nunnery down the valley as we had heard they made cheese there. We were not disappointed – plentiful cheese and jam awaited us and made the walk in the sun totally worth it.
I will hike anywhere for cheese (the wine wasn't quite such a hit though...)
The next day we started off on a three day hike across the mountains, with stunning views overlooking the plains below, a picnic at a farm for more homemade cheese, a night at an orphanage, another night at a mountain hut, and finally finishing at the town of Mombo. From there we caught the bus (after waiting for a few hours at a dubious road side café called Liverpool restaurant) to Arusha.
Irente Point after our first day of hiking
Our arrival at Ausha was rather frenzied – we were greeted by tens of touts trying to get us in their taxi, on their safari or to buy Massi jewellery. Unfortunately it ended up in a big fist fight between the men, but we arrived in our hostel intact with all our luggage. The main reason for our trip to Arusha was to organize a safari, and soon we were on our way to the Serengeti and Ngorogoro Crater. They lived up to expectation, with leopard, cheetah, lions and elephants all coming to say hello.
Our safari group - Peter the cook, Beth, Olga, Ina, Godfrey, Sam, me and Lucas
Tents, camp fires, marshmallows, wine and Konyagi, a lethal local spirit, made up for the lack of partying in Pemba. Soon we were practicing Swahili on the local rangers, until we were told to go to bed by Peter the cook.
It started out so civilized...
Our trip back to Arusha was eventful – after a night of heavy rain a bridge between the national park and Arusha had been swept away, and large sections of the road had disappeared, making it impossible for vehicles to pass. Fortunately after a couple of hours of waiting around the army recruits had cleared a path and we arrived back in Arusha at nightfall. The next day it was time to make our way back south to Dar-es-Salaam. What had been sold as a 9 hour bus ride actually turned into a 14 hour nightmare and another late night arrival into a bus depot. We were also welcomed by the heat and humidity, just as we’d got acclimatised to the cold of the north. Then it was time to say goodbye to Beth as she flew back to the UK. I was not alone for long though – in no time I was back in Stonetown to visit Anna for a joyous LSE reunion – for once not in the library!
Finally I am really feeling settled into Pemba life. I have found the best places to buy the necessities of life, from toothpaste to kashata (kind of like peanut brittle, but not so brittle), via local fruit and fresh juice. I have also located the best places for lunch, from chai and buns stalls to egg and chips to rojo, a mix of potatoes, fried bean patties, boiled egg and cassava chips (or any combination of the above) mixed together with a spicy sauce made from tomatoes and mangos. I have my work space well and truly fixed up – a terrace overlooking the town which serves much needed cold soda. On my way home every day I have my coffee hut to hang out at and chat KiSwahili with the local guys. I can’t go anywhere without bumping into (often literally on Chake Chake’s narrow streets) someone I know – surely a true sign of becoming part of the community. But I am now into my last two weeks of the project, and the ‘pole pole’ (slowly slowly) Pemban life I have been living is starting to catch up with me.
Obligatory coffee break before cycling home
The daily chore of collecting water from the well, and then carrying it home
Despite all this there are still a multitude of customs, traditions, rules, attitudes and perspectives I still haven’t got my head around, and I don’t think I ever would. Life here seems totally disorganized, nobody has any idea what is going on from one day to the next, which makes life here an organizational nightmare. You can turn up to school to run a workshop to find the majority of the teachers absent, while the others are either eating cassava under a tree or sleeping on a mat in the staff room, as the children run wild in the classrooms.
Since arriving here I have experienced the warmest greetings of any community, with almost everybody being excited and happy to see you, hugely appreciative of the work we are doing, and falling over themselves to help us in some way. But the fall-out over Gaddafi’s death has highlighted to me how great the divide is between Muslim and Christian in Africa, and the extent to which people here hold a negative view of ‘the West’. Although in the British media the Arab Spring is portrayed as a local and organic uprising of Muslims against oppressive leaders, many people here see it as a US and UK sponsored attack on Islam. A quick chat with my ‘Baba’ (father, in my Pemban home) on the day of Gaddafi’s death revealed that he was fiercely pro-Gaddafi, who he saw as a visionary leader of Islam, although he also recognized that Libya had sponsored terrorism.
Pembans are also extremely proud of their culture, religion and traditional way of life, and have a fear of anything that might undermine this. They have seen the development of neighbouring Unguja, with an influx of tourists, rise in drug use, prostitution, HIV/AIDS and a seeming decline in religious fervour, and are determined to protect their island’s way of life. In many ways I admire this, they recognize what is important to their community and what makes this small island unique. Despite the boost the economy would receive from tourists, they also realize tourism can have negative effects. Yet in many ways this dogged attachment to tradition, culture and religion can be seen as a brake on development. Many issues in society are simply ignored, with disabled people, drug users and unmarried women often seeming like outcasts from the community. Prayer time and religious festivals take up so much time that it is not surprising that jobs don’t get done, building work is running months behind, teachers cannot finish the syllabus and businesses fail to stay afloat. In many cases people often fail to get effective treatment for simple illnesses and diseases because of beliefs in evil spirits, the devil and ancestral spirits, which means they usually seek help from traditional medicines, herbs and witchdoctors before attending the hospital or clinic. However against this background Pemba is also relatively developed – most people have some form of employment or income, most people have attained some secondary education, even if their level of English is poor, the roads are in relatively good condition and the number of large 4x4s driving around suggests there are a number of wealthy families.
Studying English at Sober House
Since my last blog I have finished the English course at Sober House, the rehabilitation centre for alcohol and drug users. I have really enjoyed my time there, chatting with the guys, sharing jokes over lunch of beans and rice and seeing them really progress in their English speaking skills. However we have also had a number of hilarious conversations. In one class I decided to introduce some reading as most of the students were away having a medical check-up, so I pulled out what I thought was a relatively straight-forward novel about an Australian, fraud and prison. However three pages in I realized the language was not as simple as I had first remembered, and was having to explain almost every other word. Embarrassingly one such word was ‘erection’. How to explain to a group of four adult men in broken Swahili-English, while Beth was in the corner giggling away… Since then we have had quite a few in-depth life conversations. I was approached by one guy to explain what a ‘pimp’ was – I advised him it probably wasn’t a good career choice for after he finished the programme – while two others asked me for help on chatting up girls. From what I have seen of men in Pemba so far, they definitely need help. The usual routine seems to go something like this – ‘Jambo muzungu! Where are you from? What’s your name? Are you married? Not married! I need a wife!’. Sometimes they neglect the asking of the name part, that isn’t essential in the first meeting.
My students from Sober House
Since my last blog I was also invited by the local Imman to visit the primary school in the main mosque in Chake Chake. I felt honoured to be allowed to enter the mosque as a non-Muslim, and was intrigued to see inside. It wasn’t quite as exciting as I had expected, but pretty special all the same. They have a small primary school within the mosque, with about 150 children from the age of 5 up to 14. First I was taken to the youngest classes to sing some songs, play some games and help with maths (fortunately nothing more was demanded of me than counting up to 10, phew). Then I was taken to the Standard VI science class. I was quite happy learning about plant growth along with the pupils, until the teacher held out the chalk to me and announced Miss Asilla was now going to teach about seed germination and give notes. I tried to find some help from a text book, but there was nothing, so I improvised with some information about nutritious soil, water, temperature and light and a big picture of a seen becoming a flower. The teacher seemed to love it, but really didn’t get the point that I haven’t studied biology for over 7 years now, and even at the time didn’t really have a grasp of the subject… Anyway at least the pupils got to draw a pretty picture!
Two Form IV Graduates singing a traditional Swahili poem
One weekend we were also invited to attend a Form IV graduation ceremony at one of the schools, Connecting Continents. It was a fun event, with traditional sung poems (all in Swahili so I had no idea what was going on), a play in which Beth starred as the crazy muzungu and afterwards lots of cake! The strangest part of the day was the graduates’ attire – they all had to wear what looked like a black shower cap with ribbons around it with a matching sash and the head master and the guest of honour were also dressed in the same get up. They seemed to really enjoy it though, which is the most important thing.
Beth, Haji and me at Connecting Continents School - rocking the headscarf!
So far (touch wood) I have managed to remain surprisingly healthy here on Pemba, but just last week Beth and me were hit with a strange pox like rash which we think we have caught from playing with some village kids. They are always scratching. I probably should have known better – who knows where they have been – but they are pretty cute. However the end result was looking like we had chicken pox for a couple of days and coating ourselves in anthisan. I am happy to say that I am now back to normal and pox free though!
Romina on Vitongoji beach
Last weekend it was Romina’s birthday, so she celebrated by baking a cake with the older children and then taking the whole swarm of kids off to the beach, about a 30 minute walk away from our house. Fortunately when we arrived it was high tide, so the children had great fun splashing around (in their pyjamas), jumping in the fishing boats and enjoying the evening sun. Even though they live on such a small island and the beach is so close, they don’t seem to visit that often – I guess for their parents it’s not actually that exciting. Anyway we dragged/carried back an exhausted and salty bunch of kids, all with tales to tell of adventures with the wazungu.
Enjoying the sun and beach with the children
Little Sada splashing around in her PJs
And last, but not least, here are some pictures of the beautiful children that come to the library storytelling club – absolutely adorable!
The beach on my morning run
This week I had a really interesting meeting with the Immam, who preaches at the central mosque in Chake Chake and runs an NGO, Zanzbar Children’s Fund. Over cardamom coffee and dates (a really great combo) we discussed the importance of education for personal and community development. I gave him a quote I have recently come across:
‘Education is the greatest engine of personal development. It is through education that the daughter of a peasant can become a doctor, that the son of a mineworker can become the head of the mine, that a child of farmworkers can become the president of a great nation’ Nelson Mandela
He was pretty chuffed – as with everywhere else in Africa, Mandela is a huge hero. And I was equally chuffed when he told me at our next meeting that he had preached on the importance of education at the mosque and used the Mandela quote!
Our work at Sober House, the rehabilitation centre for drug users, has been going really well. It is challenging as the range of abilities is so varied, from those who are pretty competent in English to those who cannot read or write, but they are all enthusiastic and willing to learn. This week we were also invited to go with them to Wete, in the northern province, for a celebration for those who have reached milestones in their recovery – they are given different coloured key rings for reaching 3, 6, 9 and 12 months drug-free. It was a nice ceremony, but it was all in Swahili and pretty soon I was lost. However I was sat on the stage at the front, next to the guest of honour, so had to look interested!
Sober House celebration in Wete
We have also started helping with the various groups that week in the library – two English classes for primary and secondary pupils, and then a storytelling group for younger children. The library has a somewhat egotistically named ‘American Corner’, a room with PCs and books donated by the American Embassy. It is a great resource, it’s just a shame that membership is limited to a few children, whereas many people could benefit. I’ve somehow been put in charge of helping with the storytelling, each week over 100 children from toddlers to teenagers turn up, and we have to entertain them for 90 minutes with a story and playing games. Unfortunately most of the books are also American and kind of difficult for children from Pemba to understand. This week the story was about an unidentifiable cuddly animal brother and sister who went hiking, playing American football and ice skating… but they seemed to enjoy it and made a lot of noise dancing around, singing and playing games afterwards. By the time the session was up I was ready to collapse on the floor, but they still seemed to be full of beans!
Storytelling at the library
Mama Africa shaking it down with the kids
Recently we also held our Mid-Project Review workshop – a day to reflect on the project so far and plan for the future. It’s quite a shock to think I am now over half way through the project, only four weeks until I will be waving the volunteers goodbye. We spent the day at the beach, unfortunately it was rainy and windy most of the day, however we still had fun with our local volunteer counterparts, even though there was no sunbathing. In the evening one of the local volunteers, Mohammed, organized a Tenteleni-EdLITE disco for us in one of the schools, so we spent the evening learning some traditional dances to tarab music, as well as throwing in some salsa and hip hop from Romina and Beth. I think a dance off in the school yard has to go down as one of the most random events so far, but it kept the neighbourhood children entertained all night!
Learning some traditional dancing
Another highlight of this week was visiting the house of one of the local volunteers, Haji, to try dafu – young coconuts. He expertly stripped the coconut of the brown outer layer and chopped off the top so we could drink the milk, and then cut it in half so we could scoop out the ‘meat’ which was really soft and almost jelly-like. We were then sent on our way with four more coconuts to take home, however we soon found out that we are not so adept at dismembering coconuts as Haji and managed to squirt coconut juice everywhere.
Beth and me eating coconuts at Haji’s house
We have also continued our cooking lessons at home – this week we have learnt how to make chapatti ya maji (chapattis made with water – basically pancakes!) and to grate coconut with some strange stool-with-a-grater-between-the-legs contraption!
Grating coconut
Making chai outside
We have also been well and truly made part of the Kitwana family – Salama, who is 10 years old, has taken to drawing pictures of her new ‘sisters’ most days, while 6 year old Sada seems to follow me around everywhere, while baby Sale has uttered his first English word – bye bye!
Salama’s artistic impression of us!
Little Sada
Mama Kitwana, Rehema, and Salama
This weekend we took a tour out of Chake Chake to see the famous Pemba flying foxes and visit a spice farm in the north of the island. The Pemba flying fox, a type of fruit bat which are only found on the island, were in danger of extinction in the 1990s. However since then a community conservation project has been successfully implemented to protect the bats and their habitat, and now there are over 4,000 bats in the protected area. Even though I have a fear of bats, stemming from being forced onto ghost trains by my little sister when I was younger and crying all the way through, the sight of so many bats all roosting together was incredible.
Pemba Flying Foxes
Dora the Explorer
I’m not entirely sure what this sign was meant to say, but this is an interesting alternative…
From there we went on to a spice farm in northern Pemba in a small village called Bwagamo, and were shown around all the different plants cultivated here and their traditional uses, including cinnamon, cardamom, peppercorns, vanilla, lemon grass, henna, iodine, and of course cloves, Pemba’s main export. The cinnamon tree was amazing - you can cut off a piece of the bark and chew it like a cinnamon flavoured sweet, while the roots smell just like vix vapour rub. The iodine tree was also impressive – just slit into any part of the tree and iodine runs out – pretty handy for any bush accidents! It was fun traipsing through the bush, hearing all the traditional uses for the herbs, including cures for malaria, polio, skin diseases, special concoctions for after birth and others that were considered contraceptives, and finishing off the trip munching on small bananas under the canopy.
Cloves drying in the village
It was great to have a day out of Chake Chake and away from all our project work, however the next few weeks are set out to be pretty busy, with the end of exams, some school events, visits to another school, as well as all our usually activities, however I’m sure whatever crazy activities Pemba throws at us it will be fun!
