Aleku Salaam

Hello to all from the dripping humidity of the East African Coast,



(I'm used to it of course, so no big :P)



It is impossibly hard to remember that we are indeed still in Kenya, much less Africa. I feel like I have been transported to some paradisical port on the Arabian Penisula, where the palms sway and the Indian Ocean rolls in and the people speak straight coastal Swahili, which has much more of an Arabic twinge to it (the greeting to the post is the greeting that we have been getting by everyone here on the coast -- it literaly means, peace be with you, though I may have spelled the first word wrong). People here are beautiful -- I mean that in all ways. Men and women both look "smart" (as the people will tell us) at all times, and they have a sense of life where you take things as they come, which is even more pronounced here than in Nairobi.



As unfamiliar as I still am with Islam, I already like it much more than the strange breed of Christianity in Nairobi. Somehow, it just feels better here. That may have something to do with the fact that the Swahili Coast has had contact with the Muslims of Arabia for over a Millenium now, so their depth of faith, tradition, and culture is astounding. Mosques are stunning buildings, and I feel so peaceful walking past them. And there is certainly something about the lilt of the calls to prayer that echo through the skinny, wandering roads of the beautiful Old Town (it reminds me very much of the old parts of cities in Europe, where cars were not even a consideration) that makes me want to go and partake even more so in the culture.



Before we go too far, it is worth mentioning the 10 hour adventure on the bumpy roads of the central highlands. We saw our first: giraffe! ostrich! wildebeast! elephants! olive baboons! thomson's gazelles! kudus! all of which were within sight from the road. My first thoughts when I saw the family of baboons looking up at us from the road was the incredible connection we have to all primates -- they made eye contact with us, and I am almost certain I saw a little glint of humor in their eyes as they saw a bus-full of wazungu (whote people) pass by them. I think we even stand out to them.



We sped through some beautiful, desolate land, and saw some rather sobering facts about living in the dry plains between Nairobi and Mombasa. Huts made of plastic bags, squatters in quite seriously the middle of nowhere. But I bet if you talked to them they would still have a spark of life that I have been able to classify as distinctly African.



As soon as we got to the 1000 year old city of Mombasa, there was an immidiate difference from the land that we had just driven through. Palms swayed on the road, and we saw people decked out in their Ramadhan best, as the fast was breaking when we drove in. Colors everywhere, markets, people, and old architechture, which is such a contrast from Nairobi which in my mind still feels like it doesn't belong (kind of in the middle of dry, dry land).



We went to a little carnival the night we got here, which involved some sketchy swings that were handpushed, but looking incredibly fun, lots of Swahili, lots of kids running around, and some loud music. Brought me back to the greasy carnivals of New Windsor, Maryland. Mmm.



The next day we woke up and headed out as a group to buy our Muslim wear for the next week and a half. The guys went into one shop, led around by, believe it or not, the most esteemed Swahili Poet in the world right now, an older Swahili Man by the name of Ahmed Shiekh. He read us some of his poems today, which was pretty neat to hear.



The guys all bought what are called kanzu, which essentially are light cloth (usually polyester, though I imagine they were real silk back before plastics) robes that go all the way down to just above your ankles. In all reality, I think they are quite beautiful. We also bought some Muslim caps, which I believe are called kafa, that complete our outfit.



The girls went to a different shop to purchase bui-bui's, if I have spelled that right, which are the traditional black robes and black head coverings that the people of Islam are known to wear. Some were not looking forward to it, but they grew on just about everyone. And I must say, there is a certainly hidden grace and beauty that is evoked by the women when they are wearing these clothes; I can see how to the tradition is not so much repression of women as it is a more subtle sense of beauty than we perhaps are used to in the Western world. Very cool, all around.



As we walked the streets with our new garb, we were treated completely differently than we were before. People could not stop holding us up on the road to tell us how absolutely beautiful we looked, and how much they loved our choice. Rather than being passive observers of the culture, we now entered into actually experiencing it full out. Some people asked us if we were Muslim, but most just greeted us with warm smiles and an "aleku salaam." I am not kidding you when I say that we legitimately walked away from some absolutely horrible, abnoxious Americans walking down the street: huge brightly colored tanks tops, tattoos down the arms, shorts, sneakers, arrogant sunglasses. Yikes, man. They didn't even give us a second look. I'm convinced that we blend in. And I really think this experience has made me acutely feel what a different traveling experience people could have if they tried a little harder topush beyond their comfort zones and embrace more fully a culture that is foreign to them. You risk the potential of seeming like you are impersonating them, and perhaps mocking them, but as long as you approach it with a respect for the way of life, my suspicion is that people will welcome you into their restaurants and places like you have been living there your whole life.

Last night, our teacher Dave treated us to a spectacular five-star dining experience in an old Colonial British Club, that he is a member of of course (Dave knows everone, seriously. And is the nicest guy ever....), right on the water of the bay and Ocean. The accomodations were stunning: lime juice on the balcony, a huge patio to eat on, the plam trees fanning us as they blew in the late evening breeze, the stars shining, and the incredible experience of eating with what has become a tightly-knit group.

Afterwards, we headed back to the hotel to have a drink with our teachers Ken and Dave, which is always a good time.

We have the rest of today off, and Anton and I are planning on finding some good eats, exploring Old Town Mombasa, and going out later tonight with the whole group to a local watering hole. And using up our stipend money for the day in the process, of course....

Tomorrow we head off to cross the Tanzania border, and then to hop on a small plane (which is going to be super cool) over to the island of Pemba, where we will spend one more night in a hotel prior to meeting our new families in a little town on the north of the island. Pemba has no internet, as far as we know, and the town we are in has absolutely no electricity, so you won't hear from me for the next five days or so. But you can be sure I'm thinking of you! :)

Alright, time to explore and eat more good food than is humanly possible.

Salaam,

Zach