On becoming more familiar and comfortable.

We've managed to leave Kendwa. It was difficult for both of us, but in the end a good decision. Simply accepting our lazy natures was good for a bit, but it was nice to move on. We shared a taxi ride with two pilots for British Air, Steve and Ed. They were heading back to do some plane flying and we were heading back to take off on a spice tour. So we hit Stone Town and found a pretty crappy hotel. It really wouldn't have been that bad except that Zanzibar in general is a fairly expensive place, and as we're on a budget, sometimes we end up cutting the corners a little too much. Our reward, you ask? Bed bugs. Sandbags for pillows. Mosquito nets with holes. A 10 minute walk from the major tourist spots down famously narrow and confusing streets. I'm all for mingling with the locals, but there is an element of safety that needs to be taken into consideration. But on the second night, we managed to venture through the single-horse streets and successfully find our hidden hotel. Familiarity helps.

We happened to pass through a funeral procession which was underway. I thought that it would be forbidden to pass though, as the entire street was covered with rugs and crowded with women in veils of an amazing number and variety of colors. Different styles, some covering their entire faces leaving only the eyes, some with a simple head scarf, some with nothing at all. I still haven't figured out the difference or the reason behind the different styles. We saw a women with only her eyes exposed, but her dress was open from the center down, exposing multiple layers underneath of bright colors.

We took the ferry over from Zanzibar to Dar Es Salaam today. There was a veritable crazy onboard, which made for an interesting trip. She alternately tried to simply scream, throw the contents of her suitcase across the aisle, throw water bottles at people, or sleep. There were some people who were taking care of her whose response to most any action was alarmingly violent. She kept shouting the same thing over and over, but we were never able to figure out what it was.

When we were on Zanzibar, we had purchased some postcards. When we arrived at Dar and had checked in, we decided to sit in a chinese restaurant, eat some wantons, and write out our postcards. Quite fun, but certainly felt more than a little out of place. I suppose the "feeling out of place" bit is becoming like a second because it really didn't bother me one bit.

T