The journey

Africa…? Really…???
Happy New Year! My first official blog entry since arriving on the new continent. A new year, a new home, a new challenge. Here’s to all of the adventure that 2010 holds for all of us!

My goal… to keep this blog up and running. I can already see how easily it could be to slip into the tranquil existence of no outside contact. But this will be the journal of, if nothing else, the interesting and colourful characters that will be passing through this remote dive centre somewhere on the East African coastline. Let’s go back to when I left you guys…

The journey was long, but for the most part, surprisingly uneventful. Almost three complete days from door to door. Ugh. Considering that a silly Nigerian burned himself to bits trying to blow up that Christmas Day flight, three days with no delays was actually incredibly lucky. No need to document the journey as it was merely airports and grouchy people, but there were one or two highlights…

Sadly, my lodging in London was close to the airport, miles and miles from anything or anywhere else. The three block walk from my hotel to the local Tesco mini mart was sadly stereotypical; drizzly grey, lots of litter in the streets, and many sketchy looking characters in tracksuits flitting about with a cigarette jammed in their mouths as they shouted into cell phones with random “alright! alright!” and “bloody hell”s here and there. And not a pretty set of teeth between them all.

Heathrow airport is a complete nightmare. Complete. However, good fortune was on my side once again as the short lineup for Egypt Air and the checking in of all of my book laden bags without extra charge was surprisingly efficient. I have to admit that my white girl, media-hyped, slightly overwhelmed brain was a little bit on watchdog mode as all of the communication quickly switched from English to Arabic. The airport announcements or reports from the captains on the planes would go on for 5 solid minutes in Arabic, then a 3 second “please fasten your seat belt, enjoy your flight” English translation. Come on now. I’ve lived in Asia, we’ve all seen the mis-dubbed kung fu films, yeah, some languages take a little longer than others to get their point across, but this is ridiculous. Who knows what the cool Arabic kids got to talk about behind our English speaking backs but I made it here in one piece, and that’s all I really cared about.

Going through a “security check” in Cairo was interesting… they took some water bottles, and not others, even though we were already in the secure zone, they let me keep my nice sharp plastic knife that I had forgotten about and shoved in my carry on, and when I beeped going through the scanner, the security guy motioned to this bored and very disinterested looking woman sitting behind him. She was slouching and yawning in a randomly placed chair, holding one of the magic metal detector wands loosely in her lap. I paused, but she remained seated. Really? You’re not even going to get up?! So I walked the few steps over to where she couldn’t be bothered to drag her ass up from her mighty plastic throne to check for explosive devices, she waved her magic wand over my front, it beeped, and she did the… “pfft. Get out of here”, hand dismissal wave. I stood there with my mouth open for a few seconds, shook my head, and moved on. I guess no one has any intentions of blowing up planes going INTO the Middle East.

Blah, blah, blah… arriving in Dar es Salaam, capital city of Tanzania. You know that cool map movie thing that plays on most flights as you’re travelling? Gives you the time to destination, miles to destination, outside temperature, how high you are flying, etc? Ummm… yeah. The last outside breath of air I had was in London, where I wore my puffy down jacket to the store. I knew I was heading to Africa, so dressed in layers accordingly, but as we were descending, what caught my attention was the temperature. As we re-entered our lovely atmosphere, we quickly jumped from -51C to +16C. We are landing as the sun is rising, just after 6 am. And we descend, lower, temperature, higher, higher. Still at 750m and we’re already up to 26C. Oh s**t. Yes, I can hear you all rolling your eyes … I know it’s Africa, I know it’s hot, but you can just never really prepare for it.

A driver was waiting for me, very happy man holding up a hand-printed Swahili Divers sign, and I was giddy on a combination of extreme over-tiredness and complete and udder disorientation. The plan was that I would go to a hotel where I could most likely get a discounted day rate, sleep for a few hours, and shower before starting the little plane journey over to the islands. The drive into the city was hot and slow so it allowed me to replay so many fond scenes of my beloved Thailand. Busy streets, someone always selling something up and down in between traffic, swarms of people walking, running, biking, from one place to the next, and minibuses dangerously crammed with seas of sweaty faces and random items of necessity tied to any available space. The differences… darker skin and colourful wrap-like clothes. Oh! And the superstar women walking with 100 pound baskets of food, papers, or whatever perched firmly on their heads. Very, very impressive. THAT, I have to learn!

A hot, sweaty, confusing drive and we end up at one place, no clean rooms. Head down to the next one, and paid $20US, no discount! for the sketchiest little ickfest that compelled me to place a chair under the doorknob despite it being the middle of the day. Laid some of my own things over the stained and torn sheets and pillow and attempted sleep. A continuous stream of hammer banging on pipe, shouts and foreign conversation, and a nagging sense that the lock on my door was being tried a couple of times kept me from any rest. I braved the bathroom, oh you just can’t imagine, and checked out by noon to be taken back to the airport. The drive was less than a half an hour each way and I was charged a hefty sum of $50US. I was in Dar es Salaam less than 5 hrs and spent $70US. Folks, I have quickly learned that Africa is NOT cheap.
Domestic airport. Typical. No plane ticket upon arrival, not typical. The airline I was supposed to fly had no internet so sent me to another airline. Nope, you’re not on our list of reservations. Back to the first one, oh, yeah, here you are, who is paying for your ticket? No, no, it has already been paid for. Look of disappointment. Oh. Okay, we leave at 2:45pm. (even though tickets said 2pm). Welcome to Africa. Chatted up all of the airline staff (hmmm… maybe all of about 6 people INCLUDING the pilot!) coming in and out of the office-sized room that was their waiting area. One of the porters weighs my bags, tells me I have to pay. I drop the names of the resort owners and their boss who runs the airline, they make a phone call, and I don’t have to pay. More disappointed looks. So I wait. And wait. And wait.

Much, much later 7 westerners walk out to the tarmac and onto an 8 seater plane. Small, old, dingy bits and pieces held together with string and duct tape. But we make it to Zanzibar in 20 mins. Off, wait at Zanzibar, then move on to the big plane about an hour later, about 17 of us on a 20 seat plane. Gulp. I was dying from heat and exhaustion (are you picking up on the common factor here?!) so no fear laced adrenaline rush, no fingernails in the palms of my hands, I closed my eyes and did the mouth open sleep for probably a good, solid 15 minutes. We arrive in Pemba 30 minutes after we left Zanzibar.

Walking on the tarmac is always such an interesting event in these countries, dodging random parked and trying to park planes. Safety is just an entirely different concept. Entirely. While waiting for the luggage to be carted off the plane, a sweetheart of a kiwi with the best smile EVER plops himself down to wait. He and another girl who were on the plane had met climbing Kilimanjaro and came here together. Wow. Impressive, impressive, impressive. The kiwi was planning on coming to my resort to do some diving, the girl was open to plans so came along. I offered my driver, being the presumptuous person that I am, and we were all soon speeding through the little towns and villages on the hour long trip to the northern point of the island.

This Africa has parts of what I had imagined, and more parts of SE Asia. “Villages” with mud / clay huts and thatched roofs, half clothed children, small random collections of odd buildings with random things, and lots and lots of people just sitting, as there’s nothing else to do. Wherever there’s a bit of shade, you would see people just sitting, watching, seemingly waiting, and still doing nothing. But it’s the coast, and a very healthy coast, so the full green of the tropics covered everywhere I looked – enormous and green and green and green. Slightly disappointing as it wasn’t completely new conce, but comforting at the same time. It was surreal.

My home… well, I’ve got to get some pictures up. This isn’t Africa. This isn’t toughing it. This is just dreamy. Right on the beach, quaint open concept resort, it’s is simply amazing, amazing, amazing. There’s no way that pictures will do it justice, but oh my gosh, I will try. It has been an interesting few days but this is already ridiculously long so I should get it posted. I’ve done a bit of teaching, two dives, and already been involved in a scandal that will cost me around $300US. 4 days in and drama already. Sigh. The owners are instantly lovable, feels like family already, but had my first break down this afternoon. Happy New Year to me. Tomorrow is another day, this is Africa, they keep telling me, and nothing is right unless everything is all effed up, so I soldier on. I’ll get some more of the details out soon but for now, I just wanted to let everyone know that I’m still alive. I welcomed 2010 under a full African moon on the beach with a glass of champagne in my hand toasting some of the most interesting of people, and I am still looking forward to everything that this new year has to offer, good, bad, ugly, and everything in between.

Hope the hangovers have somewhat subsided, that everyone is still looking forward to what the New Year will bring, and that you’re all still checking In on me.  Talk to you. xoxo