Arriving in Zanzibar, an archipelago off the coast of
Tanzania, after a 20 minute flight from the international airport in Dar Es
Salaam, it was clear that we were on a different continent. With some anxiety
we finally encountered the driver that was to escort us an hour north to the
beachside escape of Nungwi. As we passed
through the hustle and bustle of the main town, the buildings began to morph
into single story, one room structures made of mud, wood and stone finished
with coconut palm roofs. Children played in the red dirt among chickens, goats
and cattle while mothers and grandmas stood guard over roadside stands selling
small tomatoes, limes, peppers, lychee, squash, cassava and root vegetables. Behind the
villages and through the trees we caught the occasional glimpse of the deep
blue ocean in the distance.
Even in the taxi, I was still a little trepidatious about this journey Kent and I were undertaking. We’d read that Zanzibar is an incredibly conservative island and local women cover themselves from head to toe in respect to their Muslim faith. On top of that, we would be in Zanzibar right in the middle of Ramadan, where people fast from sun up to sundown. We had no idea what to expect from the locals and I was a little worried about not being able to wear my cute new bikini as I frolicked on the beach, yet excited that I might lose a few pounds from the fasting bit.
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