So, it’s been a while again since I’ve written anything recent. So, what’s been keeping me away from my blog?
Visit from dear Suzie.
It was wonderful to have her, it was so easy, she just fitted right in. I had a few days off over Sauti za Busara; The International Music festival (more of that below) and we did lots of cruising about, drinking coffee and booze at suitably unsuitable times of the day and night, eating, swimming, laying around, getting bitten (by nothing tasty) and being a bit sick (in my case.. not just bit!). All good. Well mostly.
Sauti za Busara; The International Music festival -The Sounds of Wisdom
Well what an amazing event it was; music from all over East Africa and further abroad, including West Africa and Europe. Some highlights:
· Seeing so many of my friends here from the mainland and further afield, namely the lovely Will. What a treat.
· Seeing the oldest Diva at work; the 85 year old Bi Kidude wailing some of her finest Zanzibari Tarab.
· Witnessing something of a crowd surge in eager anticipation of her appearance (pretty extreme at this most laid back of festivals.
· Meeting Seiku Keita, his family and band; lovely folks from Senegal, Gambia, UK via Egypt and Italy. Much fun was had watching them perform and taking them snorkeling..
· Seiku’s beautiful boy Karim.
· Kidnapping a 6 foot 6 Kenyan into a side tent to regale him drunkenly about the power and importance of his lyrics, which were sadly undermined by his ridiculous outfit (sort of tight satin pajama affair; thank goodness I didn’t get onto that topic before hiccoughing my way off back into the fray).
Recovering
Although I was secretly looking forward to life returning to it’s quieter pace I wasn’t prepared for how I hard would crash. A mixture of tiredness, lack of activity at work and saying goodbye to one too many people really sent me into a miserable place for the first time since I’ve arrived. (On reflection, this is pretty good going). The end result was that I couldn’t face the though of having another conversation or eating another nice snack out and about.. so I retreated to my flat with DVDs and took a well earned rest. It did the trick and I was back on track.. phew.
Work news
As hinted above I have been experiencing the 5 month work / placement crisis. There comes a point where you just think you’re stuck so fast in the mud that your feet are rotting or that you’re about to start sprouting bizzy lizzies (which seem, by the way, to grow almost anywhere here.. oh except where I try to plant them..) So anyway.. under-employment.. oh the joys! Well, I’ve done pretty well so far not to get frustrated, but there comes a moment when you think, “OK, so come on LET ME DO SOMETHING NOW PLEASE!!!!!!!!!!” Of course this isn’t really how it is, because looking at the bigger picture (thanks Doug) things are moving and changing and I am working.. (honest).. just very slowly. It’s a real challenge to accept that, coming from the high intensity existence of the last 6 years.
Other work news is that my wonderful boss (not sarcastic, he is really a good egg) has been given a job at the Ministry of Education as The Director of Secondary Education here on Zanzibar. It’s a pretty top job, and he’ll be great, but it’s a damn shame for our project. When asked why he didn’t give us a clue he replied something like, ‘Well, I wasn’t given any notice either. When I asked why I wasn’t given any warning, they said it was because they thought I might say no to the job’! Hmmm. Nice.
5. What I hate..
So while I’m having a whine, what else is annoying about living on The Crazy Muslim Theme Park of Zanzibar?
a. Shop sellers/ hawkers greeting you with an aggressive ‘Jambo’ instead of using the plethora of polite and friendly greetings they have at their disposal.
Running the gauntlet of the main tourist tracks through the maze that is Stone Town; deflecting unwanted attentions whilst trying to suppress the increasingly rude responses rising from my lips:
“Karibu.. just lookey” “Not lookey bloody likely”
“Yes? Taxi?” “No, my name’s Bert”
“Sunday price” “Today’s Tuesday, Mate”
b. Soliciting unwanted attention because I’m white.. from:
i. Sellers thinking your loaded;
ii. Gormless tourists smiling at you with that annoying look reserved for embarrassed parents trying to laugh away their child’s bad behaviour, just as they battle though the stinking market batting off spice sellers. They do it just because they think they share that common experience with me, but only because we are the same skin colour. Thy wouldn’t dream of sharing the same look with the woman in the headscarf being trampled by the hawker trying to reach the post spice tour Italians. Grrrr.
iii. Men wanting to get your number / learn English / marry you
iv. Italians.. surely they’re not this brash at home? What makes them turn into hot pant wearing, jewel encrusted, mahogany coloured trash here in this most un-hot pant wearing of places? Is it just that that look works in Italy, but not here? Answers on a post card.
I should stop there…
6. What do I love?
a. My now happy relationship with my housekeeper Salma. It’s been hard work because:
· she doesn’t speak a word of English, so the basis of our delicate relationship is based entirely on my faltering Swahili;
· I didn’t like the thought of domestic staff in the first place, didn’t hire her and had no choice in the fact that she’s here.. in the hours for up to 5 hours a day.. good lord.. I know! What does she do? I really not that messy!
· The fact that she has worked in the house for 15 years with the previous inhabitant, so the place is, like HERS.. and I’m an evil impostor!
· I’m a strange, rich white girl with weird stuff , strange ideas and behaviours.
But in the last couple on months we’ve become buddies partly owing to my efforts to win her over with little gifts, leaving her to do her thing, laughing with her, being silly, scatty me and… Wilfred….Dear Wilfred, the doctor from Dar, who lived downstairs for a month. Unbeknown to him he became, Salma’s public enemy number one- which much to my joy, brought me and my housekeeper together in a secret gender battle of her complaints and displeasure! Poor chap, he really was lovely, but a thorn in the side for dear Salma.
7. What I’m dreading?
a. Saying goodbye to Will. But it’s good. All good.. he needs to go home…! Must be selfless and rational..
b. Booking my e-ticket home. I want to come home of course, but so much so that I fear the electronic demons will curse my ticket so magically it’s declared null and void as I prepare to check in..
8. What am I confused about?
a. How I feel about women wearing headscarves: A symbol of repression or actually quite a practical and glamorous accessory? Hmm.. thoughts please.
b. Where do those ants come from?
So, that’s about it: some good, some bad, some silly.. that’s about right and real isn’t it?
Xx J xX
