Escapade 7- The Italian Woman

After paying my $100 for my visa at the Zanzibar airport (and yes I am still a little upset over it-more at our goverment though and their policies which have cost me an additional $50 on this five month trip for the last time!!!).  I walked out side just hoping and praying desperately to find a cab (this is a joke by the way if you haven't caught it yet-catching a cab at any airport in a third world country as a Westerners is akin to me having diatery problems eating in foreign lands-it is literally impossible for it not to happen).  An Italian woman then came up to me in the middle of the throng of cab drivers who were begging to meet and spend time with me.  People really do love me over here.  She wanted to spilt a cab, and so we set off to our respective hotels.  Just about every Westerner I have met here has come in part to volunteer in some capacity, and this Italian woman came to Africa to complete her master's work on women's cooperatives in Africa. She helps empower womens by assisting them to set up (or improve) their own companies.  Very interesting stuff.

She was only in town for the day, interviewing a woman here, before flying on to another island.  So we decided to meet in an hour or so and check out the sites after she napped and I found a desperately needed laundry place, and I do mean desperately needed.  In the States, I would never go a day without a morning shower and nicely cleaned clothes.  I will leave it at that.

I figured I'd drop off my clothes quickly and walk back to the hotel.  Nothing is that easy though.  After about and hour and a half of walking around the city, back and forth to my hotel for further directions, I finally found a laundrymat.  The hotel was ridiculously expensive (about $1.50 per item)....and so was the laundrymat, charging the exact same price.  So, I limped back to the hotel yet again and gave the bemused desk guy a few pieces of clothing from my laundry bag, enough to hold me over until cheaper cleaning options could be found at my next destination.  In less than two hours, I had become famous in Stone Town as the Texas guy carrying around a bag of dirty clothes.  "Hello there Texas man.  Have you found laundry?  Do you want to buy a painting?  Come check out my store, Texas laundry man."

When the Italian woman didn't call for our meeting, I tried to call her.  However, I had no luck.  The desk guy then suggested I walk over to the hotel and see if she was awake, the hotel being only five minutes away.  Two hours later, and I still hadn't found this mysterious hotel that no one in all of Stone Town had ever heard of.  I walked down narrow alleyways, large streets, tourist markets, local markets, over and over again and eventually gave up.  The alleyways and markets, however, are fantastic, a mix of European, Arab, Indian and African styles with especially ornate doors.  Some in better shape than others, with tourists and natives walking around together in harmony.

I walked around the night food market for a bit and bought some bread, which I imagine couldn't upset my stomach...so much for the best laid plans.  After returning to my hotel for the evening, the Italian woman finally called the hotel and invited me to meet her at another hotel in town, a very popular one which I found very quickly, just in case you were wondering.  Apparently, she had the same difficulty calling me on my phone.  Neither of us could figure out how to call a Kenyan phone in Tanzania from another Kenyan phone in Tanzania.  And interesting dilemma I never planned to face in my life.

I arrived at the hotel to meet the Italian woman and along with her was Muslim woman from Zanzibar, in fact the person the Italian woman had come to interview.  What followed was an amazingly open and frank discussion with a very interesting devoted Muslim, living on a predominately Muslim island in Africa.