Zanzibar Part 2: Jambiani

I pull into a old fishing community on the west coast of Zanzibar. This spectacular community is called Jambiani. The streets are sand, traffic includes bicycles, cow drawn carts, chickens, goats, walkers, and the odd moped, motorcycle, or taxi van. All of the homes are made of cement brick, but it is the most intriguing sight because it looks as if they have all freeze framed in the middle of a great ruination of the village, they all have holes in their walls, and there are crumbled bricks and debris all around. It is truly the vista of a lost community in the midst of a great jungle. Jambiani is so exquisite in its modesty and honesty it would humble the Queen of Sheba.

It is an Islamic village and the one mosque is in the centre of the village, it is a small white structure consisting of three walls and a roof. It was really neat watching the men at prayer, it was seeing religion in its most raw form, groups of believers gathered together in a tiny forgotten village on the coast of a tropical island. I am glad to know these traditions are able to preserve themselves away from the deceitful parts of religion that slowly pervade and taint the beauty of believing.

The guest house I was staying at was on the ocean, kilometers of white sand. The only people moving about are the fisherman, the children playing in the waves, women catching octopus, beach boys roaming the beach. The ocean is full of a hand crafted sail boats called Dhow’s ; the dhow is an Islamic creation. A small sail boat that instead of having a deck of any sort, is a hollow. The hollow is about 5 ft and that’s where you stand. There are 2 extensions on either side of the body that run the length of the boat which act as a gliders, they balance the ship. The mast stands about 10 ft in the air, the sail is made of out rice bags sewn together, there is a wooden rudder at the back of the boat. The entire thing is hand crafted, right down to the nails. It’s a work of art really, and this is what the ocean is full of.

The diet of the locals is fish, rice, fruit and vegetables. I have never felt so healthy and alive as I did when I was living on the beach. Every morning I had coffee, mango, pineapple, banana, home made buns and fresh jams. Every evening I had fresh fish from the day, and I am talking a fish; they fish is prepared whole, and they put the whole thing on your plate, I can’t lie it took some getting used to. Everything I ate was a product of that day, from the trees and from the ocean, delicious food, for pennies, wow, eating will never be the same for me.

The weather was dream like, very hot with a gorgeous ocean breeze. The ocean was both literally and figuratively the place to chill out. I would spend my days relaxing on the beach, swimming, snorkeling, reading, laughing, all according to nothing except the next moment. It was peace and tranquility at its best. The moon and the stars were gracious in lighting up the sky each night. There are no lights in Jambiani so the stars create a dome over the entire village, you feel safe the way the stars wrap around the whole coast and moon illuminates the ocean. Then comes the sun rise and as the moon and stars are diminishing in the sky, a quiet and maternal warmth begins to transform the dark into the morning light. The clouds of the night absorb the light of the sun and all you see is a sky of pinks, oranges, purples, blues, and yellows. Then before your eyes a golden beam of light brilliantly shines through the clouds. The majestic scene is enhanced as the villagers begin to wake and the fisherman and woman begin their day in the silent hours of dawn.

I sit and know beyond the depths of unknowing that I am very blessed to be alive in this world of sun rises and sun sets. A world of culture, of tradition, of humility, of grace. I can recall most every moment of my time in Jambiani and I think that is because I had no distractions in my mind. I have never felt so still and at peace, I am sure the essence of life lives in Jambiani with no masks or veils to elude herself from its people. My body and mind were nourished completely.

I hope the time comes when you can be in Jambiani receiving this spiritual nourishment, but I know that the distance between myself and Jambiani, and the distance between yourself and Jambiani is interchanging wind and shared light from the sun and moon. So let that breeze from Jambiani refresh you, let the sun warm your heart, and let the peace of that place find you wherever you are, and as the locals say; “Hakkuna Matata”;

Let there be no worries.