Zanzibar Africa - Zephyrs of Zanzibar

Zanzibar’s sites, smells and colorful past abound

The old Stone Town of Zanzibar with its labyrinth of narrow streets transported Rick and me back to ancient Persia – until, that is, we were jarred into the 21st century by vehicles passing with less than a foot between their fenders and our bodies flattened against a wall.

Ornate wooden doors led into crumbling buildings, patched many times in the 150 years of their existence. Mold and mildew in the rainy season, briny sea air, and the blazing sun of summer took turns loosening layers and chunks of stone and mortar.

The interiors seemed held together with coats of vivid high gloss paint. Bui bui (black veils from head to toe) or kangas (bright cloths, one for a skirt and another for a head cover) are worn by women young and old.

Papasi (“ticks”- Swahili for touts) flooded the streets peddling wares or steering visitors to a commission-paying hotel or tour company. Call to prayer resounded from the mosques in this Muslim community. A lively market once dealing in slaves bound for Arabia, Persia and India was filled with heaps of clothing, footwear, produce, meat and fish.

The Beit al-Sahel, or Palace Museum, is a fascinating way to walk through Zanzibar’s history.

Replicas, drawings and charts of ships chronicle the 12thto 15thcentury trade-boom of amber, tortoise shells, leopard skins and slaves.

The sultanate era is detailed with intriguing stories of the Oman rulers and their families, particularly the radical daughter of Sultan Sayyid Said, Princess Salme (1844-1924) who in the 1850s taught herself to write by secretly copying verses from the Koran onto a camel shoulder bone and later, scandalously eloping with a German trader.

Our Spice Tour conveyance had a distinct character: an open-sided truck with bars extending from a few feet above the bench seats along the back and sides. Scrunched in with ten other people, we drove into the countryside to glean the source of the little packages that season concoctions the world over. Pepper vines spiraled up the trunks of trees in a mutually natural relationship.

Our fingers turned scarlet as we squished the seeds of the cinnabar or “lipstick tree.” The colorant is used in cosmetics, food and paints. Pinching the leaves of 100-year-old cinnamon trees released a familiar fragrance. The bark is peeled regularly, with no harm to the tree, which is capable of repairing the layer within three months. Both leaves and bark are dried and ground into powder.

Most awesome were the 30-foot giants with clumps of cloves dangling from lofty branches. Tri-pod ladders are required to do the frantic picking in a two-week window when the cloves fetch the best price.

Strangest were the jackfruit with their greenish reptilian skin. An ambrosial combination of pineapple and banana was released as we sampled the pulp.

The “forty-tree”, as it is known, contains quinine used to treat malaria as well as ingredients which supposedly cure another 39 ailments.

Our minds were saturated at the end of pinching, prying, sniffing, tasting and absorbing facts on 30 plants.

As a part of the Spice Tour, our guide Joseph drove to the slave enclosures at Mangapwani. After slavery was abolished in 1897, the profitable business went underground. With only low stone roofs with a few air vents protruding, it was impossible to detect the gray stone pens used to hold captives until they could be clandestinely transported to cargo ships.

Descending jagged rock stairs into a dank 8’ x 10’ room, we noted a row of gouges half way up the walls. After the first 50 slaves were forced into the cramped space, poles were slotted into the gouges and planks were laid so 50 men could be crammed on top. Another bunker held women and children, truly a chilling, appalling sight.

Nungwi Beach is an unspoiled paradise of coconut palms, white sand, coral reefs, and tepid seas glistening in sunshine.

The accommodations are mostly small bungalows with screened windows or holey mosquito nets. Noticing gaps around the screen frames, generous enough for mosquitoes to fly in six-abreast, we choose a unit with nets and went to work with a roll of masking tape to plaster the apertures.

Access to the beach was down a ramp of bamboo poles. Cows grazed out back. Nearby restaurants served basic food, though so “polee-polee” (slowly, slowly) we thought our waiter should be reported as a missing person.

Each day the shore filled with women meeting the fishing boats to load up the day’s catch in bright orange five-gallon pails. Then, in an amazing feat, the women balanced the weighty containers on their heads to walk to the village, their life unchanged by the passage of time.

Reminiscences flow to breakfasts of strong coffee and luscious melon as our days whiled away meandering the streets to haggle over carvings or textiles, and sipping wine as we watched the setting sun bleed into the Indian Ocean.

From the tropical beaches to the crumbling mystique and rich Islamic culture of Stone Town, Zanzibar is a place to slip into a mellower existence.

More Information: Zanzibar Island (locally known as Unguja) with its popular Stone Town and suburban beaches, is one of many islands in the Zanzibar Archipelago off the east coast of Africa. In 1964 after the last sultan was overthrown, the Zanzibar Archipelago merged with Tanganyika to form the country of Tanzania.

If you go From Dar es Salaam: By Air – ZanAir and Coastal Aviation have daily flights; - Ferry company lists & sailing times obtained at – Tanzania Tourist Board, 1555 Samora Ave. Dar es Salaam Ph: 212-0373, or see their web site: www.tanzaniatouristboard.com

Author : Irene and Rick Butler