Slowing down, embracing a routine, letting your pulse decelerate, misplacing your watch, not looking at your phone, wondering when the tide is coming back in, planning little to nothing for a day… We all wish for this seemingly blissful state of being, but seldom in our busy lives do we achieve an inner Zen and allow ourselves to let go. On Zanzibar, we have heard almost everyone mention “Africa Time” on many occasions. On the powder white edge of the crystal clear Indian Ocean, it’s a mantra that not only lets you deal with a myriad of inefficiencies and misses, but also one to keep in mind as your natural, goal-oriented psyche fights for control.
In Zanzibar, I feel we’re getting closer to this state than at any point on the trip thus far… Oai, Santorini being the possible exception. After 2 weeks of beach bungalow living with no clue as to where our shoes have walked off to, the remote southeastern coast of Zanzibar has rewarded us with lazy days, long beach walks, time for conversations with once strangers, now new found friends, and lots of time to just hang. While our electronic profile is not at zero, we have managed to pair down many devices, leaving them in storage in Dar. Not completely free, I must still keep an eye on work and the kids must keep an eye on school for sure. However, we are getting much less bothered by shoddy hairline connections to the information superhighway, and the habitual need to check the various messaging platforms that rule our lives, putting off with a shrug and hope that maybe tomorrow it will work.
As for schedule, the only real thing we have to do is be somewhat on time for our kite boarding lessons, which are a half hour stroll down the beach. The paradisiacal setting of the kite center, festooned with giant waterproof daybeds and rope hammocks under a perfect grove of palms and trees that resemble a cross between a willow and a cedar make the effort all worthwhile. With a shocking palette of aqua blues and sea greens dotted with colorful kites and lazy dows peeking beyond the sand between your toes, you feel that you could stay forever, being almost as good as the kite boarding itself. And this is the closest thing to a traditional school any of us have been in for a few months now!
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On our stretch of beach that we have called home, there are far more locals than tourists. Woman adorned in spectacularly colorful and festive fabrics walk down the beach carrying any number of things on their heads. Fisherman leisurely pole their way out to the reef in their dhows in anticipation of the tide draining the ocean floor so that they may hunt for octopus and squid. Lots of kids play football or swim while their Moms go about pulling in fishing nets. Men routinely set a large fire under their wooden boat carved from a large mangrove tree so that they can remove built up algae. Others just rest under the shade of a palm, watching the feast of colors roll by as the day slowly ticks away. There is a slowness, a calmness, about all of it, despite lots of activity and work being done, that is so foreign and so appealing…
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