Adios 2007

Ah, as I type, 2007 is creeping out the back door, making way for a new year: 2008.

The year in review? Gosh, it's been quite a year, indeed. I've heard, and wondered myself sometimes, about if how you ring in the year is indicative of the year to come. In my experience, there's some truth to that--in the same way, of course, we find truth to our horoscopes. ;-) But still, maybe I should have been forewarned that 2007 was going to be bumpy.

Last year, about five minutes before midnight, I was greeted by a friend of mine arriving at the party where I was . . . with my ex-boyfriend as her date. Whoa. Yes, that put a damper on my New Year's Eve. I'll admit, I didn't take learning this information gracefully ("Bamboozled" was the word I kept using, as I remember), and after she'd had ten-minutes' worth of daggers from my eyes, fortunately, they left the party. Still, I didn't ring in the year in a good mood. (Seriously? neither could have told me before hand? I have to learn five minutes before midnight on New Years Eve? (Okay, I have barely an hour more to be bitter, then I really have to finally let this go, I know.))

So, this year? Well, since moving here, I haven't gone on more than two or three dates with any one person, so the risk of a repeat is minimal. And I'm staying home tonight. With so much going on in NYC the rest of the week, there was no need for me to go out tonight. Sure, I will stay up to ring in midnight. (After all, I just painted my toenails, so I must stay up for them to dry. (No need to paint my fingernails, though, thanks to Santa! ;-) I got this great SeaCret stuff with a fabulous buffer--my nails are super shiny!) (Thanks, Santa!)

Anyway, yes, the year, in a whole, has been, well, bumpy. Don't get me wrong, it's been incredible in many ways. But even in those ways, there've been bumps.

I have finally stepped out of my safe-zone to take care of me. And as scary as that is, I have no regrets.

And wow: TWO trips to Africa!

I sold my house--with a nice profit.

I moved out of state for the first time.

I taught new classes.

I presented, for the first time in academia, to colleagues--FOUR times!

I taught a course to lawyers in Uganda.

I went scuba diving--off the coast of Zanzibar, in the Indian Ocean!

I took belly-dance lessons.

I (finally) bought a laptop.

I FINALLY bought my convertible! :-)

I moved into a 1926 house--with a basement! And stairs to the attic!

I put myself out there--really out there--for my job. No, I haven't landed a permanent spot yet, but I have taken a chance that was hard to take, and I'm proud of myself for taking. It might take another two or so years to finish search. But I've begun the search--and that, for me, has been big.

My life had grown very stale, very static. I needed more, and to get more, I had to take some steps--such as moving. For the most part, I've gotten a lot of support from others in making this move. And that's been nice.

There's more for me to come.

And 2008 is ringing in quite nicely. That should make for a nice year to come, don't you think?

And so, Happy New Year to all, and to all, a safe and fabulous year filled with love, peace, kindness, and warmth.

My Favorite Bumper Sticker

1.20.09: The End of an Error.


I'll vote Feb. 5, and I'm excited about what will happen in Iowa this week. I do, though, already know my vote that'll happen in February:

Obama '08

I know. I grew up thinking (being told) that I was conservative. Funny, it was my brother, actually, who first pegged me as liberal. Of course, back then, I thought those were dirty words. (Fightin' words!) Finally, though, I've not only accepted them; I've embraced them.

I am. I am liberal.

Gasp!

;-)

I heard an Iowan senator on the radio today talking about Obama's experience. He made the point that it's life experience that's important, and everything about Obama's life experience indicated this was a man who worked to unite people. And that, in my opinion (and that senator's), is something we could use. (That, and someone in power who had the courage to say "no" to the war, knowing it was not Iraq that attacked us, but a different force, a force he tried to get people to focus on, but that sadly, has slipped from our focus.)

Wow. Me--going on record with a political opinion. The times, well, they really are a-changin.'

And they feel good.

Work, Work, and More Work

I am often amused when people think I actually have off a month in December. Sure, classes are over, but I have worked daily, and all day, since returning from Houston.

Okay, granted, I did take a week on the beach, and that was great. And I allowed myself four days for Christmas. But that's hardly a month! :-)

Anyway, both of my syllabi finally are complete and posted online, and students have gotten word. One syllabus was especially difficult to craft as the book covers so much more material than we'll possibly have time to cover. And I like to have as complete a syllabus as possible when the semester begins. So I had to make all the decisions now as to what gets how much coverage. From a 950-page book, I had to limit our coverage to less than 600 pages for the semester. And the hardest part is that the material I had to omit would be very interesting. But there is only so much time.

I'm structuring this particular class differently too. It will create more work for me, but I think it will be good for the students. And in this particular class, I'm going from all first-year students to, I suspect, mostly graduating third-year students. They are bored with school and ready to be out. This, then, makes it most challenging to keep them engaged. But with my approach, although some will grumble at first for having to actually do more work, I think it will create a more positive environment in the classroom.

I've also worked hard on my presentation for NYC. My time to present is very limited, but the audience is expected to be quite large. And this time, it's a national audience of all types of professors and deans. But I've analyzed all of my data, put it into a great power point, and I've even incorporated another component, which will be great--if it doesn't fall flat. ;-)

And so I'm off to NYC tomorrow. I'll meet up with two girlfriends/colleagues, one from Seattle and one from Wisconsin, tomorrow night, and we're sight-seeing on Wednesday. We have tickets to a show, Cyrano (with Kevin Kline & Jennifer Garner), on Wednesday night, then I present Thursday morning. I hope to see my good friend from Fort Worth Thursday night, then Friday it's a reception in the Rainbow Room. I suspect I'll sneak away from programs one afternoon for a museum too. And I'm back toward home late Saturday afternoon. Whew!

What I'm quite happy about is that this is the last trip I have planned. The fall was quite a whirlwind---with a trip out of state almost every three weeks starting just after Labor Day. They were all good, but frankly, I'm tired. But I am just so darned blessed to have such an incredible neighbor who's taken care of Howard and Sophie almost every time.

Ah--speaking of Howard. I took a break yesterday afternoon and walked him over to Overton Park. It was sunny and gorgeous, and lots of dogs were out in the large field in front of the pond. And they were all off leash. Howard sniffed some, and he whined--this pitiful sad whimper of, "Why can't I play with the other dogs like that?" I thought and thought, and I decided, the Sunday of a holiday weekend would be the safest time to try it. And so I did it. I unleashed Howard.

Well---never again! I had known better, honestly, but I always did kind of wonder--maybe he'd grown out of his running? Maybe he'd be better? And so I did just have to try. At first, he was great. He stayed right near me for a couple of minutes, then he played a little. Then he ran a little farther away. And like we do at any fenced park, I then yelled, "Howard!" very excitedly, and he looked up at me, and like at other parks, came loping over, pretty much grinning. And then he trotted off again, finding people to say hello to. And then, all I can guess, is that the wind changed. For suddenly, he put his nose up in the air, sniffed, and he ran. Fast. He galloped off toward, where else, the zoo! (Yes, I know--dogs, off-leash, right near the zoo? Well, none of the other dogs notice. But not Howard!) Another dog was chasing after him, with me not too far behind.

Fortunately, of course, Howard gets very easily distracted with his nose, and he forgot about the zoo (and its parking lot) in favor of many many other smells in between. (When we got to the perimeter of the field, the other dog gave up and returned, dutifully, to his owners.) Howard kept on going. Fortunately, he was turning back toward the direction to go home, but I did not want him crossing McLean--a very busy, and fast, street.

But we were saved by litterers! Yes--litter bugs came to the rescue. Now, what's odd to me is that any time we've walked near the zoo parking lot, we've always found discarded bread--from sandwiches, from hot-dog buns, something. And this time, thank goodness, was no different. So when Howard came upon this gold mine of bread (WooHoo my little carb addict!), he had to stop and eat. Actually, he, sensing me right behind him, grabbed a mouthful and ran off. But he eventually gave into the yummy white-bread flavor and stopped to chew. And he heeded my "wait" command, as I approached and releashed him.

Ah, well, I made the thought-out decision to try. And we tried. But now I know for sure: never again. :-)


Anyway, yes, after Saturday, finally, I'll be home for a while. And instead of me traveling soon, I think I'll have some guests actually visit me this spring. I've held off on seeing several sights around here, waiting to share them with others. But I suspect Lisa will be here in February, and we'll definitely hit the Civil Rights museum. (will be interesting this year, with it being the 40th anniversary since Dr. King's death--at the location of the museum.) I'm going to try to hold off any other guests until after the first of March, though. I must get this article I've been working on finished so I can submit it for publication by March 10. (Other than Lisa's visit (if she can make it in Feb.), pretty much every weekend between now and then will have to be spent on the article.)

But I also will plan some trips. My best friend will be leaving Hawaii this summer, so I want to try to make it to see her before then. She and I have also talked about meeting on the West Coast for a long weekend. I really want to finally go see my brother (although next January's meeting will be in San Diego, so I know I'll be there then). And I'm hoping to plan an overseas trip to celebrate my birthday this summer. It's one of those "big" ones, and I've decided the best thing I can do for me is to travel and ring in the next decade. Ireland? Spain? Haven't totally decided. But I am leaning most heavily toward Europe. Maybe Paris? Hmmmm. We'll see!

Ah, more work to do in the morning before catching my flight. It'll be this way for all the next weekends until this article is done. Umm Hmm. And life in academia is so cush? As if! ;-)

Catching Up

It took me a few days to get over some pretty severe jetlag from my trip. But on Monday, I still had to face what I left here: my exams.

I went to school, picked them up, and said hello to colleagues, dropping off a few gifts for those who took care of things while I was gone. With a huge box full of exams and my books for making syllabi, I was back out.

It took me the next week to finish grading. I would work some at home, some at various restaurants, and often at the local coffee place. But finally, they were all done--late Saturday night.

On Sunday, I flew to Houston to my sister's house for Christmas. I stayed three nights, and it was a great visit. Kids from six to fourteen (and my twenty-year-old niece) provided lots of laughter, and it was wonderful to see everyone. The trip was, of course, very short, meaning there wasn't time for lots of personal visits with anyone, but that's to be expected this time of year. Although the movie we saw this year was far from great, the tamales on Christmas night were fabulous and made the perfect wrap-up for the holiday.

Back to Memphis on Wednesday, since then I've worked hard on my syllabi for the coming semester. I'll be teaching a new class, so this one is taking a lot of extra work; I've already got sixty-eight students registered for the class, so that'll mean two very large classes this spring.

From here on, I'll put together my presentation for NYC, where I'm headed on the 1st and hopefully take a little time to enjoy the bowl game tomorrow night.

But in the meantime, although belated, Merry Christmas!

A Long Journey Home

Juma arrived at Matemwe Beach Village at noon, as arranged, to drive us to the airport. And so, it was back across the island. We stopped briefly in Stonetown to get some stamps and so I could mail my postcards, then to the airport.

By 2:00 or so, we were off the island, headed back to the mainland of Africa. We landed in Nairobi and settled into the transfer center for our first long layover.

About eight hours later, we were off again. I settled in for sleep, and dozed for most of the flight (indeed, ambien is a good thing on overnight overseas long flights!). We landed at 5:30 Friday morning in Amsterdam, local time. And so, it’d now been nineteen-and-a-half hours since Juma had picked us up, and we were barely half-way home.

We had another eight-hour layover in Amsterdam, passing time with breakfast, getting new boarding passes, and catching up on emails on the airport’s wireless internet.

By 1:00, we said good-bye. Mimi had a direct flight to Seattle, and I had a direct flight to Memphis. She was off then, and thirty minutes later, I was back in the skies, headed home.

This flight, though, was a long ten hours. Knowing I’d want to sleep when I got home, I stayed awake most of this flight. I talked for a while with my seatmate, on his way home from Iraq. I watched three movies, and I made friends with eighteen-month-old Raquel, walking her up and down the aisles, amusing her with laughter, and even holding her for a while, giving her mom (traveling alone with her) a little private time in the bathroom.

Finally, back home, through the, well, let’s call it unique (and time-consuming) customs arrangement at the Memphis International Airport, and out for a cab. And what a way to end the trip: my cab driver was Kenyan! We talked a while, and he was quite excited to hear of my journey. But soon, I was home—thirty-nine hours after Juma had picked us up on Thursday.

To say Howard was happy to see me could be nothing but an incredibly understatement. He nearly knocked me down with his kisses. Sophie, too, was very loving. And with their greetings, I managed to stay awake until 9:00, which is when I finally gave in to sleep.

What a wonderful trip.

Good-bye Africa

I awoke early the last day and headed straight for the beach. The clouds had moved in, surely about to bring rain to the western side of the island. For me, they simply provided some incredible flirtations with the sun.

I took some shots, poured myself a steaming cup of coffee, and took it all in for one last time. The sound of the ocean truly does heal my soul somehow, and this morning was no different. Sitting there, I felt closer to peace than I had in some time.




It was, though, finally time to get moving. I dressed, packed, and headed for breakfast. Afterwards, there was time for one more walk along the beach.

The beach was busy. Boats awaiting fishermen, men headed out to fish, women carrying loads of things down the beach, boys on bikes, and even two small boys working on their boat who just adored posing for pictures then giggling contagiously when they peered at the picture in the window on the back of my camera. I walked a ways, then turned, ready to head back.






It’d been a wonderful visit and a fabulous vacation. Alas, though, it was time to end. And so, it was time to say good-bye to Africa, again. Will I return? I’ve learned that is a question that I cannot answer; there’s really no telling.

Diving the Mnemba Atoll

I woke early enough to head out to the beach for sunrise and coffee. Yes, this time we were on the east side of the island, and they set up coffee and teach each morning at six, just before the sun peaks over the horizon. I was just a little late for the full effect, but it was still glorious. In fact, I captured this shot of our dive boat, anchored just off the shore.

After another tasty breakfast, again with delicious fresh fruit and juice (and finally—peanut butter!), it was finally time for my dive!

Side note: translations sometimes get confusing when we spell things based on what we hear and what we’ve seen before. The special advertised for breakfast was as follows: “Two pancakes with grilled tomatoes and means meat.” Hmmm. Mimi, though, figured out that this meant minced meat. Ah ha! But still---pancakes, tomatoes, and ground beef/ Hmmmm. My mind is a little wrapped around bacon and ham from breakfast, and browned ground beef just wasn’t speaking to me. And so, I went with just the pancake.

We checked in at the dive shop then loaded up for the drive to the boat. Yes, I had caught a picture of the dive boat just off the beach that morning, but due to the tide, we were unable to load up on the boat there. And so, we survived the forty-minute very bumpy ride farther north on the coast---almost directly west of Mnemba Island. (The rest of the roads on Zanzibar were fine, but these, whew! Very bumpy!)

Arriving at the boat, we, once again, waded out to the small motor boat that had come near the shore to pick us up. We then headed out on the larger dive boat to the first dive site—a wall dive on the outer edge of the atoll.

My dive master, (Vanessa from Holland), had just me and Shannon with her for the day. And Vanessa was wonderful! She just swam along slowly, mostly letting the current take us along the reef. Vanessa did a splendid job of pointing out interesting sea life—turtles, eels, lion fish, etc. We stayed down for fifty-five minutes on the first, dive, having gone down about fifty feet. We then surfaced, enjoyed a light African lunch on the boat, and headed off to the next site: the Aquarium. Again, a nice relaxing fabulous dive, seeing incredible salad coral, stone fish, rock fish, and several blue-spotted rays, even a baby one! Below are pics of a spotted ray, nestled under the sand; an eel, mouth wide open; and a turtle, resting atop some coral. (Click on the pic for bigger view.)







That afternoon, we enjoyed a nice happy hour at the hotel bar area, visiting with Shannon and Rod. The two of them, who both live in Phoenix, are traveling in Africa for six months—having started in Egypt, and working their way to Cape Town,. Now that’s quite a trip! Shannon also had an extended trip in India where she stayed at an ashram, learning to be a yoga instructor. Ahhhhh….one day, perhaps.

And what would our last night with a happy hour be without Dawas? Mimi and I both had Dawas when we went out to dinner in Nairobi in March then again the day we did lunch at Carnivores. Muddle limes and their squeezed juice with Pemba honey, fill with ice, then top with chilled vodka. Yumm-mie!

One final dinner, and that was our last night on Zanzibar.

And as a point of reference, here's a map that shows all of the places I went on Zanzibar: Stonetown, Chumbe, Matemwe, and even Mnemba Island (where the atoll is that I dove).

Matemwe Beach

Blue water, white sand, and warm sun are the ingredients for a fabulous island vacation, and Matemwe Beach delivered them all.

After getting settled in, resting a bit, and enjoying a bite for lunch, I headed off for my scuba refresher course in the pool. My instructor went over the basics of putting my equipment together with me, which was good because as pretty much just a vacation diver, I don’t do that myself much. Once in the pool, we did some basic drills, and I passed each skills assessment: regulator recovery, mask clearing, buddy breathing, and finding then maintaining my neutral buoyancy. Although I felt comfortable diving without the refresher, I liked that this operation took safety seriously, requiring the pool refresher for anyone who hadn’t been on a dive in over a year.

That done, Mimi and I rushed out to the beach for our sail. Two men handled the sailing, and Mimi and I and a couple from Switzerland were passengers. The boat, made of one piece of wood, is similar to a dhow but much smaller. The boat is about a foot wide and a foot deep and has one sail that can be switched, by moving the rope, from one side to the other without the use of a boom.

With more wading out to the boat, we pushed off from the shore and set out for a half-hour sail around the area. The water was beautiful, with an amazing array of blue shades.




After our sail, Mimi headed off to read by the pool and to get fitted for her snorkeling equipment, and I went for my massage. The masseuse led me along the beach to a hut. The walls did not come all the way to the straw ceiling, so all during the massage, the sound of the ocean served as the soundtrack. Fabulously relaxing. I will note, however, that for both the Uganda and Zanzibar massages, I missed the greaseless oil I’m used to here. But then again, the cost of each there, added together, is still less than one massage here. And so, not so bad in the end.

We dined that night with a couple from Portugal and another from France; she was German and he French. All but one of us spoke English, and all but another (me) was fluent in Spanish. All but two were fluent in French. And so although we could not all converse at once, we made do.

Matemwe Beach Arrival

Our final destination was Matemwe Beach Village. After the boat ride back to Zanzibar early on Tuesday morning, Juma, our original driver from the airport, met us back at the Mbweni Ruins Hotel. (We had arranged the time with him when he dropped us there on Sunday.) Arriving to the shore of Zanzibar, I took one last look toward Chumbe, and the sight in view simply whispered, in ultra clarity, relaxation.


We drove back into Stonetown, made a stop at the ATM, then headed off across the island. We drove to the far east side, not too far from the northern tip. After trying to find the Matemwe Beach Village once, but failing, our second try got us there. Ah—finally, the place where I will dive.

The first person who greeted us was at the pool area and had on a One Ocean shirt, indicating he was with the dive shop located there at the hotel. I told him who I was, that I had two dives booked the next day and a refresher in the pool booked for that afternoon; it was about 11:30 a.m. when we arrived. And so came the abrupt change from the laid-back African culture I’ve grown accustomed to here. (and that, by the way, I relish while here)

This man all but outright scolded me for arriving “late,” saying it was too late for the refresher and I should have been there earlier. I, trying not to be too visibly irritated at this abrupt change in attitude (from Chumbe—all about service with a smile and “Is no problem”—to this “shame on you for doing what we told you to do”), tried very politely to explain that the booking agent, Generose (who turned out to be the sister of an employee at Chumbe (Niva)) had told me everything was fine with my booking, that my refresher would be the afternoon of the 11th, and that I’d even confirmed everything on the 9th with Max at the Stonetown Once Ocean office. The gentleman, whose name I never learned, irritated with me, took me to the office area of One Ocean where I met Frank. I explained the situation to Frank, and he disappeared, then finally, Xavier came from the back area, this time, smiling.

In the meantime, I sent Mimi to go ahead and find where to check in for our room, so we could relive Juma, our driver, of our bags.

Xavier gave me the option of completing my refresher right then or later in the afternoon, seeming most accommodating. I’d like to be generous here and assume the first gentleman was simply having a bad day, but I learned later that people at Matemwe Beach either “get” guest services or they don’t. And no, that guy just didn’t. Fortunately, though, Xavier, originally from Barcelona, did.

Having straightened that all out (and opting for a later refresher), I found Mimi checking us in. Between her and the gentleman at the desk, though, I felt quite overwhelmed and rushed. My traveling companion, perhaps it’s being from the East Coast, has quite a habit of saying “yeah, yeah, yeah” when you are talking. I find it very frustrating (but not, for only a two-week trip, frustrating enough to create any sort of discussion over it). And this man at the desk was also rapidly listing out details of our stay. He would begin to explain something, she’d say, “Yeah, yeah,” and he, thinking, I’m sure, she must already know all of this, would abruptly discuss the next item. Later, she complained that he was going over things too quickly. I tried, gently of course, to explain that her concurrence in everything he said—given even before he’d completely discussed the details, probably hurried him along too. She denied this. (Don’t we all deny, too much, the things we do in conversing with others? Those things that cause such frustration to our conversation partners—one-upping their story, not listening and breaking in too rapidly (when I recently told someone I had a bad cold, as soon as I said it, I then found myself immediately listening to how that person had suffered a cold—two weeks ago, never actually asking how I felt or how I was doing, when I was the one who brought it up. Sigh.), getting distracted (I admit, I’m quite bad about this one), etc? (No, I’m by far not perfect, either.))

Anyway, we got booked a ride on a sailing boat, booked massages, and got our room key. The room was nothing spectacular, but here, we were certainly not paying resort prices.

The place’s motto is “No shoes; no news”—ah, yes. Take off your shoes and leave your news behind. All the paths between the buildings were sandy and soft, and they were even swept each morning—removing the cahsewy tree seed pots that were quite uncomfortable to step on.

And finally, we went and booked Mimi for snorkeling; she would go out on the same boat as I would for my dives, but she and two other people would just snorkel.



With all of that settled, finally, we found the large lounging area, looking out to the oh-so-blue water, and ordered some cold drinks. Ice, of course, is not easy to come by. And on this trip, my cool drink of choice became Fanta Orange. Perfectly refreshing, even if a bit too sweet.


This place too had wonderful areas to kick back, listen to the water, and, yes, relax.

An Ecotourism Experience

Chumbe Island is a small island off the west coast of Zanzibar—not too far into the Pemba Channel.


What once was a military island, the coral reefs around the island had not been exposed to damaging fishing or boat anchors. When the island was no longer going to be needed by the military, a woman, noticing the pristine condition of the reef, thought the coral needed protection. She set her thoughts into action, and eventually, a private organization took got protection for the reef—at least on the west side of Chumbe Island.


But how to keep the reef as pristine? First, no fishing is allowed on the reef. Also, no boats can try to anchor in the area. Finally, the island is set up as an ecotourism location—allowing people to visit the island, researchers to learn about the island, and the island protection.

With ecotourism, to my limited understanding, we try to leave as little impact on an area as possible. In other words, the goal is for humans to hardly change anything from the natural state.

Some things about Chumbe . . . .

First, access to this island is not as easy as most tourists are accustomed to. No pier or dock serves the boat to the island, and the boat is at the mercy of the tide. For us, it was low tide when we were to catch the boat. And so to get there, we rolled up our pant legs and waded out to the boat. (Fortunatley, the rain was just then ending, even though the skies still appeared a bit ominous. They cleared quickly over the next hour.)


Our (now arrived) luggage? The staff from the boat (the small boat) raised each suitcase above their heads and carried each piece the long distance from the dry shore out to the boat. While we’d had notice that wading was required, always remember that knee-deep for one person might be mid-thigh deep for another (who’s as short as I am).

And again, once at the island, we had to wade to the shore. Upon leaving the island, I was happy for my last wading-through-the-surf experience. (Little did I know, but of course, that there was more to come.) (Here's the pic of us leaving. The water was indeed so incredibly blue.)


Chumbe has no electricity. All power the island uses is from solar power. We had lights in our bungalow, and we even had a small fan in the upstairs, which I pointed directly on my bed at night. (Mimi was fine sleeping in the heat, but me, I missed my A/C.) There was a large solar panel that was meant to heat water for showers, but we never did actually get that to work. Still, the weather was hot, and so the cool showers were actually refreshing.

Water? All water used on the island is collected from rainwater. The bungalows and visitor’s center are designed with this purpose in mind. The roofs are sloped so as to most efficiently collect water, and they have a Swiss filtration system, filtering that rainwater several times making it even safe enough to drink.

Ah, but if water is conserved so well, what about the toilet? It’s a composting toilet. From the room, it looks like a regular toilet. One difference, however is that the lid had a seal around it to seal the lid and the seat tightly. Also, of course, there’s no flusher. Once you, um, “go,” you simply take two scoops of dirt (which is really compost that’d been composting for over a year) and pour the scoops into the toilet. Only biodegradable items can be put down the toilet. It’s equipped with a vent pipe, reducing the odor significantly. In fact, the odor isn’t a sewage-type odor; it’s more earthy. About every six months, they remove the lowest level of what is now compost, and things just keep going.


With all this ecotourism and protecting the environment, Chumbe also is protecting two rare species. First, the coconut crab—the largest land-dwelling crab in existence. Also, Chumbe is home to the Aders Diaker, a very small and very rare antelope.


Other wildlife? I can say that I’ve truly never seen so many hermit crabs in my life! They are everywhere! Of course, anywhere else, and tourists would have scooped them up, taking them home as “pets.” But the people who go to Chumbe are the sort of people who when told, “Don’t touch; just look,” actually don’t touch. (I fear that several members of my family would be the type who would think they were the exception; too many of those sorts of people, and Chumbe’s creatures loses their protection. So sad.) Our ranger, who is authorized to touch, picked this one up for me to get a pic showing the size of this guy in the pic.

Our bungalows were designed to be environmentally friendly as well.

As I mentioned, they have solar power only, roofs designed to collect and filter rainwater, and compost toilets. They are also built with a design a bit like a ship so that the air is pulled through the bungalow, bringing in a breeze. (But the first night, after a thunderstorm, the air was so still, no amount of design—other than the small fan—could provide relief.)

Our bungalow also provided an incredible view of the water and wonderful accomodations. Downstairs was a table and sitting area, including a hammock for relaxing. Upstairs were two beds with a mosquito net, the fan, and a small reading lamp. Sarongs were provided for us (with polite requests to use them so as not to offend any of the staff who are Muslim). Between our bungalow and the water was a large padded swing and two lounge chairs.





The island has only seven bungalows, and they limit the guests to only fourteen people at a time. When we arrived, there were four other overnight guests and one couple there just for the day—for snorkeling, a forest walk, and lunch.

All over the area where the bungalows are you can find places for relaxing. Near the beach is a sheltered area, about the size of a queen-sized bed. Inside is a canvas-covered mattress atop a platform that swings—yes, the entire bed is a swing! There’s another shelter near the beach with giant cushions and pillows, some bleached shells, and the wonderful ocean breeze—a place just begging you to lie down with a good book and enjoy the sound of the waves and the feel of the ocean breeze. Of course, I truly just loved going to the beach area---natural white fine-grain sand. And with so few people as guests, each time I went, I had solitude---me, the sun, and the gentle surf. Heaven.


My personal favorite spot, though, was upstairs in the visitor’s center. The center was originally built as the lighthouse keeper’s home. It has now been turned into a visitor’s center with several sitting areas, a dining room, and a classroom. (The island brings children from the island of Zanzibar to learn about conservation, swimming, and ocean wildlife.) (The second picture is as viewed from our intertidal walk.)



And upstairs is a very large area, sucking in a refreshing breeze that gently, but wonderfully, whispers thorugh your hair, continuously with the breeze. Over in one far corner is a suspended swing overlooking the northwest side of the island’s coast. From there, I sat, read my book, stared out at the boats, and just “was.” That was indeed fabulous. Sitting, and swinging here, I would take a break from reading my book and gaze out at the water. Looking north, I could see the colorful boats anchored just off shore. These boats were there waiting to take staff mmebers off the island, provide a small dhow ride for guests, and to take us off shore to the incredible reef for snorkeling. Looking west, the water reached usually as far as you could see. (One particularly clear afternoon, you could just barely make out the coast of the mainland of Tanzania.) But breaking up that view, every so often, would be a dhow passing by---no doubt, carrying fishermen out to make a living.





And the food? You might worry with all this “basic” approach, the food wouldn’t be anything special. But it was splendid! I met John, the cook, on the boat ride over. And did he ever do a fabulous job. Seafood kabobs one night, beef another, fabulous ratatouille, wonderful curried veggies, and of course, always lots and lots of fresh fruit. In addition to wonderful flavor, the setting for each meal was spectacular. Most meals we sat with a wonderful view overlooking the ocean.

And our first night, for dinner, three tables were set up near the beach. Yes, just three tables because there were only six guests staying overnight. Here's a view of our dining room--as seen from atop the lighthouse.



Our second morning we started off with a forest walk. Our forest ranger, Juma (yes, we met about four men named Juma—a very popular name on Zanzibar), guided us around a path, pointing out the trees that are adapted to survive on this coral rag—with barely a few inches of soil atop a lot of rock. We found fossilized giant clams, learned about the tree (this cactus-looking one) that is poisonous (but also, as part of the Chumbe forest reserve, still protected), and saw two coconut crabs. We also saw mother-in-law tongue plants growing wild in their natural habitat. The view from the east side of the island was as wonderful as that on the west.

As we passed by the island “workshop,” we also passed the compost area for the kitchen—where they place all the discarded fruit and vegetable matter. The hermit crabs were having an absolute feast! Juma explained that the hermits feed hungrily during the day, but at night, the coconut crabs change places with the hermits, hungrily feeding on what’s left. Here's a puzzle for you---click on the picture below (to enlarge it) and see how many hermit crabs you see chowing down on this compost pile of fruit and veggie scraps:



Shortly after our return from the forest walk, we walked out for an intertidal walk. We started a bit too late after low tide, so we couldn’t make the walk around the whole island, which is possible if you start out at just the right time. But we did make it out to an area of land that during high tide, is an island. In the many tidal pools, we saw many urchins, lots of different types of crabs, and even several giant clams. We also found several sea cucumbers, which, when gently prodded by Juma, squirted water. I said, “Oh, he peed” This amused Juma quite a bit, and he kept saying, “It peed.” I wasn’t sure he knew that was slang, and I then explained, “urinated,” and Juma said, “Urinated—that is the scientific name, no?” I tried then to change what the cucumber did to “spitting,” but I still fear Juma’s next guests will hear how the cucumber “pees.” Sigh.


Both days we were there, we enjoyed about an hour-long snorkeling journey over the protected reef. What beautiful coral! Now, what I would see later off the east coast of Zanzibar would be more breathtaking overall, but this, well, this was amazing due to the sheer variety. The reef has over 200 species of coral! Absolutely amazing!


That lighthouse I mentioned? It’s still in operation. Many of the fishing boats around Zanzibar are dhows, and the dhows are a very basic sailing boat with no sort of computer. And so, a lighthouse is an appreciated item from those sailors. But because the lighthouse was changed to a type of gas that doesn’t need as much maintenance, no longer does a lighthouse keeper need to live on the island. On our first night, we climb the many steps up to the top, rewarded with an amazing view of the island and surrounding waters.

The sound of Chumbe was pure island-quiet. You could hear the sound of the waves, gently lapping the shore’s edge. But otherwise, there was no music, no artificial sounds, no nothing. It was just nature’s relaxation soundtrack.


And so, my time on Chumbe was certainly enjoyed. We left early Tuesday morning, our bags, once again carried out to the boat as we waded out as well. As the boat moved back to the main island of Zanzibar, we bid farewell to Chumbe Island, its beauty, and its peace.

No, it isn’t a “resort” type of place (although the prices could have seemed so). But every staff member was welcoming, helpful, and seemed genuinely interested in your having a good, relaxing time. But would I return? It’s not on my top list of things to do. After all, I have many other places to visit. But it was incredible, and I don't hesitate to recommend it to anyone else--provided, of course, you can handle a little ecotourism.

PS: Our last night on Chumbe, we ordered a bottle of champagne with dinner, and indeed, we toasted my sister's birthday. Happy Birthday Charla!