Zanzibar, part 2

Other than the street wandering, which is full of wonders, there's something else amazing about Stone Town: the power is out. The power, in fact, has been out for weeks. Again, nobody cares. I know of entire states that would be shut down by such circumstances; here in Zanzibar, they're used to a spotty power grid. The bigger hotels (which are still small) have generators, which are on and off at scheduled times. The music festival, also running on generators, has proceeded wtihout a hiccup. Nobody has explained to anyone exactly why the power is out, or why it will take weeks to fix it- something to do with a severed cable from the mainland, and probably some politics. And it has not slowed anyone down. The best thing about all of this is gettng to walk the labyrinth of Stone Town streets, a complete and utter maze in broad daylight, in the dark. And I'm not being sarcastic- weaving through these canyons, it's dark, indeed- but as I've said before, there's dark, and there's dark. This is not a scary dark- I'd call it a dynamic dark. WE have flashlights, and as you walk through the streets you see a few houses with candles, and a small bonfire at the odd open space. Small bands of children (or bands of small children?) are out playing in the alleys. At one spot there's a bit of an expanse and a wall for sitting; someone has rigged a small TV to a generator, and people are gathered like it's a movie theater. (For the record, last night it was Wanted with Angelina Jolie, and as we walked past even I was riveted by the scene on top of the Chicago El when she does that cool move to duck the tunnel. Showstopper.) Lots of people are out on their stoops chatting. If someone walks by with a cigarette, you can see him coming from way off as a pinpoint of light. The stars are phenomenal, and there's music off in the distance. This place feels so much older than it is, anyway- the darkness at night seems to feel right, and it's a really nice way to see the city. And we approach our hotel, all lit up and waiting for us, after the music festival late at night.

Here's where the "rest for the weary" part comes in. This place, the Zanzibar Coffee House Hotel, is probably the coolest place I've ever stayed. For starters, it's an old Arab house- meaning, thick stone walls, very inwardly focused, and designed around two different light wells. Technically they might be called courtyards, but they're tiny- just enough to let a tiny shaft of light down into the lobby, which most of the day just washes down part of the wall. (Good plan. You don't want to be standing in that shaft of light here.) The rooms branch off around the two light wells, and it's even kind of a maze inside the hotel, because another two twisting stairways lead you up to the roof. This makes perfect sense; it is dark at the bottom and gets lighter and breezier as you go up. You'd think the darkness at the bottom would be a bid thing, but coming in off the street and out of the tropical sun, it's delicious. And the heat rises up and out through the airshaft.

The alternative, also great, is to climb a few flights of stairs to the shaded rooftop lounge. It's one of my new favorite places in the world. It's high enough to catch the sea breeze, and stays comfortable even in the hottest part of the day. It's got a balcony on all four sides, with triangular tables tucked into each corner. There's a room in the middle with shutters you can open and close as needed. That room: filled with low chairs and cushions. Perfect height for reading, beer drinking, lounging horizontally in the breeze, or, in Greg Giles fashion, starting upright with a book and slowly sliding to horizontal napping mode. There's a stocked fridge at the bottom of the stairs, so you grab your alternating cold ginger ale and cold beer, write it down on a little notepad, and head up to the lounge for a couple of hours.

And speaking of lounging, there is my room, my other new favorite place in the world. Because we booked this room at the last minute, over 4 months ago, the only one left was the "Arabica Suite." They will have to drag me out of here, I mean it. The ceiling, at my best guess, is 18' high. There are 6 arched window alcoves with layers and layers of carved shutters. There are two enormous window seats. These are about 6 inches off teh floor, with curved backs, covered with what the brochure described as "loungey pillows." I am lying on one to write this, right now.

The other fabulous feature: a huge, huge I tell you, Zanzibar bed. It is so elaborately carved that I want to cry with joy. A Zanzibar bed is usuallypretty tall, and instead of 4 corner bedposts, there are carved pieces coming up from the center of the headboard and footboard. These hold up the canopy frame, and the yards and yards of mosquito netting. I feel like a princess. There is a candelabra over my bed. And a cool stone floor, and beautiful wood furniture. This room is as big as my house. It's my only non-budget hotel room of this trip; truly, if I'd had much choice, I would have felt obligated to go cheap. But I'm glad I didn't. My travels have been miraculously smooth so far, but this is such a great rest. After Cairo, and an overnight flight, and a few weeks of changing time zones and gadding about on different continents, I need it. Today: I woke up whenever. Breakfast on the roof; shopping and strolling with my friend Kate; then all 3 of us had a great lunch, got our books, and spent the hottest part of the day reading and napping on the roof. Blissful and breezy. It's such an embarrassment of riches: it's so much fun in the streets that it's hard to come in. The rooftop is so relaxing you never want to leave. The music festival is so great you don't want to miss any of it. And the room....well, as I've already said, they'll have to drag me out of here.

Much more to come- I hope nobody is feeling obligated to read all of this verbiage, but I can't help it!! My entries are getting wordy but there is so much to say- the only solution, obviously, is for you to come join me here. Best to all on Valentine's Day back home-

Day 30. Zanzibar, Sauti Za Busara, and Rest for the Weary (part 1)

Oh sweet slice of exotic tropical heaven. I love Zanzibar. This is not news. Anybody would love Zanzibar. This is a fascinating, fascinating place, and lovely in a way unlike any other place I've ever been. This particular part of the trip is a Big Deal to me, personally and academically. Personally: two of my favorite people, Greg and Kate Giles, live in Dar Es Salaam. When I told them I was studying Zanzibar and also that I would love to come by and see them on my world tour, they said hell yes, and invited me to a music festival in Zanzibar. One does not turn down such an invitation. They get their own blog post later. Academically: because Paul Tesar is a fantastic professor and understands that people work harder when they're excited about things, he let us pick our own sites for our last studio project, and thus I got to study Zanzibar.

A brief bit of background, for anyone who hasn't heard me yammer on about it for the last few months: Zanzibar is a small island off the coast of Tanzania, about 90 minutes by ferry from Dar. It's been part of Tanzania since 1964 (Tanganika + Zanzibar = Tanzania) but it's semi-autonomous. What makes it such a facinating place: it's a spice island, and for centuries because of its spices and safe harbor and trade winds, it has attracted all of the following: Persians, Indians, Arabs, Chinese, the British, the Dutch, and African mainlanders, to name a few. Because of the trade wind situation, people didn't just come through Zanzibar- they stayed for six months at a time, until the winds reversed and they could sail home; they all brought their cultures with them. And because of the money to be made here, many stayed permanently- the majority of these being Omani traders and Indian merchants, with a good mix of everything else.

Too late for this to be brief, but a bit more: Stone Town, the main city on the island, is a World Heritage Site due to its unique history and design. It's in danger, literally, of collaps: 80% of the buildings here are decaying or damaged, due to a lack of funds for upkeep, and problems with using a porous stone as a building block in a tropical climate. For all that, which is everywhere evident, Stone Town is really lovely. To create shade (just south of the equator, after all) people built tightly. The streets are no more than 8 or 10 feet wide. Most places you could lie down and touch the walls on both sides. The buildings are tall for such narrow streets, 4 to 6 stories, so it's like walking through a canyon. Details vary, but gorgeously carved doors are everywhere, and every single building is made of the same coral limestone and plaster. All along the streets, every kind of bench, stoop, and step is carved into the buildings and shopfronts, so people are hanging out everywhere, quite comfortably.

Despite a few mishaps I am generally pretty good at navigating, particulary if I have looked at a map ahead of time. I spent weeks and weeks documenting this place, so I should know it fairly well, at least in concept. I mean, I drew diagrams color-coded with everything from architectural origin to level of decay, for every single building in Stone Town, and mapped every single landmark and significant street. On paper. On the ground, I could not navigate my way across town for love nor money, since everything looks the same. And if you figure out a few landmarks in the daylight, forget it- once the shopfronts close, the whole streetscape changes again.

The beautiful thing? Nobody cares. The whole point of wandering Stone Town is to spend a few hours being pleasantly lost. It's not nearly as big as I imagined it, anyway, and the streets are lined with shopes and people sitting in the shade and children playing games. Walking in the shady streets, even the equatorial sun is no problem. Eventually you'll hit water, or a road for cars, or the old fort, then you re-orient and dive back in.

The labyrinth I was looking for at Knossos? Here. But one fun thing: you can hire a walking taxi if you need to. For about $1.50, they'll cheerfully guide you back to your hotel.

(to be continued!)