After two three p.m. picked up the plane in Johannesburg; the seven p.m. landing at Dar es Salaam; at eight was in a jam; at nine dinner with my friend Ana (has come to spend a few days); at nine o'clock I took a ferry to Zanzibar had. So are the voyages: quiet hours without changing without you knowing, currency you do not know, local languages ??as intelligible as above, undirected hotels, sensations that crowded in the stomach, fears that are no longer, absurd conversations that repeat, look appetizing meals, flavors left to be ... I'm in Tanzania, old start.
Dar es Salaam I found another of the African capitals. More refined and less chaotic Lusaka, its large concrete buildings appear to have been raised not to be inhabited. It notes the passing of tourism and softens your look with the lush green tropical nature and ocean view. Its port, where I took the ferry to hour and a half has been to Zanzibar, becomes a swarm of people and suitcases. Dozens of men sitting in the shadows while few women, with their long skirts and veils, loaded bags on their heads. A new, of religion, because until now all the countries that had happened were mostly Christians, whereas here the Islamic faith is practiced (although Africa is a cultural and religious mix evident in all places).
Its port, where I took the ferry to hour and a half has been to Zanzibar, becomes a swarm of people and suitcases
35 dollars one-way ticket on the ship climbed Kilimanjaro, that leaving the mouth of the harbor was great bumping into dhow, Swahili small boats flimsy wooden body and a small white candle. Left, is also a huge market looked crowded in frenzied movement. Head, the tranquil Indian reinventing their blue.
The arrival in Zanzibar was made visible by, again, de los dhow. This time the small boats were mixed with large ships, Aspect rusty and abandoned, languishing at the entrance of the port. To the right are the old buildings, desconchados, of historic Stone Town, perhaps the most historic city in southern Africa, and my colleague Ricardo published a detailed report on VOD. Is a former postal what is contemplated, as if to retreat into the colonial Africa.
We took a taxi (with apologies for the Argentineans) take us to Kendwa, a northern town. The road is the image that we all draw in our minds of a tropical island, full of palms and leafy trees, around which life develops. Are ox carts loaded with the impossible and people walking slowly retiring from the road to the constant sound of car horn. The smell of spices fills the entire. It smells of cloves and cinnamon. Some points are mixing different colors of spices spilled on the floor while drying in the sun. At times the landscape seem more invented than real.
The smell of spices fills the entire. It smells of cloves and cinnamon. Some points are mixing different colors of spices spilled on the floor while drying in the sun. At times the landscape seem more invented than real
Suddenly we started to see trucks loaded with people, without any possibility of a soul in the cargo area, forming a caravan. Along the way dozens of other people expect, with yellow and green shirts, clapping, sing and shout. They are not football fans, are followers of the ruling party, the same bearing 45 years by sending in Tanzania. In October there will be elections. A few miles away is the march of the opposition. The young star and children who sing and dance the Zulu style. Go first on one leg and then the other. A repeated image that I saw in the Hector Petersen Museum, and Soweto, in the tragic student marches against apartheid education policy 1976. Impress.
-"Hopefully, this time to respect the election results. The last two times winning the opposition, but the Government did not accept the result ", Suliman says, taxi driver. "This is a corrupt country where nothing changes. I lost my job as a firefighter ago 16 years by supporting the opposition. It seems that now respect the outcome, but we already have promised the other times ". Having trouble with the police? “Sí, harass opponents. The society is very divided ", explains. Human misery has no respect either havens.
Then we came to Kendwa Rocks, backpackers hotel, some rooms (holes) by 30 euros and a long beach fascinating. Fine white sand, green and blue water and palm trees. The days grow short this place, in the shadow of some umbrellas or lying in one of their beds set up on the beach. The earliest sunsets of the tropics are yellow and red. The nights are spent in restaurants lit with torches and glasses are taken from the deck chairs. Repeated conversations between old friends, as if every time they were new, extend far into the night. I guess it's the best lever to recognize the people really close, you can share the same phrases as always as if for the first time. Six months after, Ana has come to remind me that I had a life prior to this adventure. This is a place full of charm, a place where it seems easy to be happy.
