Pwani Mchangani

That is the name of the village where I am staying in Zanzibar. Located on the northeast cost of the island, Pwani Mchangani is a very small village with no roads, just a sandy path, a small market where people trade the daily catch and some fruits and vegetables, and a school, from where I hear children singing or reciting every morning.

Pwani Mchangani, with the ocean in background

Like in most villages I have seen in East Africa, although people look poor they do not look unhappy. They have food and education, and here they even have tourists to sell crap they call artifacts. There is an IKEA Zanzibar, Prada Zanzibar and other popular names, maybe to make tourists feel at home.

I am staying in a private house far away from the big resorts. The first day here I was walking on the beach when I passed one of those resorts. Curious, I went in and what a hideous scene! Speedos and no shirt seems to be the rule to be accepted here. Fat Europeans walk their bellies around with colorful cocktails, or even worse, they bounce they bellies playing ping-pong. The building is totally neutral, I could be anywhere in the world. A well gardened grass bordering small beige houses, a kidney-shaped pool with a bar in the center and, obviously, a big golden fountain. The whole picture is obnoxious and imagining spending time here is probably one of my worst nightmares.

The problem I see in these resorts is that they isolate people from the reality around, and the reality is so much more interesting: the thousand blues ocean, the white powdery sand, the fishing dhows, the seaweed gardeners, the local sellers, the local food. All these are experiences those tourists ignore because they rather be around a pool eating $10 burgers and burritos and drinking pink margueritas. I hope that is not an aging issue and I never become like that.

Our house is cute, a four-bedroom villa right by the beach with straw roof and palm trees all over. The natural air conditioning, as they call it here, is the air coming from the ocean and crossing the house. Futari is in charge of the operation here, she takes care of everything and acts like a mother: you are not eating enough, you should not go to the water now, don’t forget sunscreen.

Our house, pictured from the low tide

The entrance from the beach

... and the beach where I swim everyday

But, however relaxing and gorgeous this can be, I am getting bored. These peaceful paradises are not for me; I need action, things to do other than long walks on the beach. Pwani Mchangani is too small to provide any interesting action other than rush hour in the market. The closest town is Matemwe, which is not a lot different from Pwani, and Stone Town is too far away. I decided to take a diving course to keep me busy and I am glad I decided to shorten my vacations here. Meanwhile I have been reading and writing, which is enriching and helps to fill my days. But, although I will be sorry for saying this when I arrive in Boston, I am getting tired of so much sun, white sand and clear ocean. I could not live in a place like this.