Day Three of 2023 brought more random, albeit slightly less dramatic, experiences, so I may as well document these too.
After self-treating my NYD hangover with a local dish in the place the barman had taken me that’s essentially chips in an omlette (known as Chipsi Mayai), chapati (which came with a peppery stew); fresh lime and salt in soda water – all for the bargainous cost of a little over £3 – and an early(ish) night, I was able to wake in time for dawn.
I was joined by a stray dog who seemed to adopt me and kept trying to stick its ass on me; I’m more scared of dogs than I am of motorbikes but tried to lean into my fear. It only moved on when I waded a little into the ocean to take a photo of the sun (it followed me from the spot we’d been sitting all the way into the shallows): I may now have fleas but I remain unbitten and was happy with that!
After a goodbye to the Macarena Maasai, who kept waiting for me on the beach, I checked out of the hotel and had a mini adventure with a local taxi driver trying to find my new accommodation in what is essentially still a fishing village further down the coast.
I’d booked a co-working space with rooms and it wasn’t well known.
Mr Taxi Driver, who would get on with my mother, kept asking villagers where it was and we’d inevitably be directed to the wrong place, ignoring me. But Google maps knew the location from the start and, eventually, he let me direct him.
An issue with my room was quickly resolved and I was able to maximise the most excellent WiFi here to do some work before heading to the beach for a walk.
This area, Jambiani, has a very different vibe and I prefer it.
Even so, my walk was peppered with the same conversation over and over:
“How are you?”
“Where are you from? “
“What is your name?”
“How long have you been here?”
“Where are you staying?”
And then the inevitable sales pitch for a boat tour/ massage/ hair braiding/ item for sale.
Whilst I understand it’s just how it is, these interactions stress me out and drain me so I nipped into a hostel/ co working space on the beach for a mango smoothie.
Replenished, I’d made my way almost back to the area I’d need to leave the beach to reach my accommodation, and had just sat on the sand to watch the sky welcome sunset, when two new Maasai approached.
Whilst I answered their questions, I was as unwelcoming as I could possibly be without being rude; I reeaallllyyyy just wanted alone time at this point. But that didn’t deter them.
At some point, though, I was just upfront and the conversation changed entirely.
We ended up chatting for over two hours, well after night had fallen. We exchanged language and culture, and I learnt that what we see as Orion’s Belt is for them a thief stealing cattle.
One of these Maasai also commented on my hair and called me ‘Baby Lion’ so that’s now definitely my name!
I was then gifted a necklace, for giving them my time and teaching them about my culture, and at one point we were joined by two random small children and then a stray dog.
The children just sat there, not speaking other than an initial greeting and either touching my toes or just…being. It was surreal!
After some time, one child left. The other disappeared briefly and sat at my side again with a blank notebook with the words ‘exercise book’ on the front and a pen. So I found myself sounding out the words ’exercise book’ and ‘pen’ in English to him, with the Maasai providing the Swahili. He’d told them he was happy, not lost and okay so we just carried on with our conversation, like some sort of weird family gathering.
It was starting to get late and so I told the Maasai I needed to leave.
What I didn’t tell them was that I was a little nervous about navigating the path from the beach to the village in the dark having only walked it once. However, they asked if I would mind if they accompanied me part of the way. I conceded and found myself with one in front of me and one behind me, safely escorting me until my building was in sight.
After we parted ways, I met a couple in the co-working space and we went to dinner together at a local place.
They’re from Bulgaria and the US but have just bought the house next door.
I finally had chapati that tasted like their Kenyan cousins and, after a pole pole dinner, and conversation spanning a few hours, we headed home.
I’ve been woken by the call to prayer and so shall shortly be heading to the beach for sunrise; who knows what today will bring!
Read about Day 4 in Zanzibar here >>