knees spilling all over the place

There's something very admirable about a culture that dresses itself almost exclusively in simple rectangular sheets of fabric folded creatively. I'm getting better at properly putting on lesos (also called kangas -- I'm not sure the difference, if there is one) so that they don't fall off in the middle of the day, but I'm not yet confident enough in my skirt origami skills to go pantsless underneath. I've just about figured out how to assemble my hijab -- give it another couple of sessions and I'll be able to do it without a mirror even. The girls are supposed to wear hijab when we're out in public to be respectful of the Muslim culture that dominates the coast. There's some really fascinating theology behind the hijab tendency, and I'm actually really excited to be a Muslim poser for a spell. Tourists are glaringly obvious, with their frackin shoulders and knees spilling all over the place out of their tanktops and shorts. Even though it's a gazillion degrees outside (my finger nail polish actually melted off), men should be wearing man-dresses or man-skirts (called kikoi), and women should be wearing long skirts, tops, and a sheet of fabric encasing everything waist-up, exlcluding the face.

We are staying in a touristy part of Zanzibar called Stone Town. It is so different from everywhere else we've been, and so beautiful (despite the tourists). The streets and buildings look just like something that fell out of ancient Europe and into the tropics -- which, when you think about the history of Tanzania's colonisation and role as a trading port, isn't all that far from the truth.

We all went out for Italian food at one of the few open restaurants (it was Friday when we arrived, which is the Muslim equivalent of the Christian Sunday, but on steroids). Leanora and I split a pizza and seafood spaghetti and oh my god it was amazing. We've pretty much all been craving cheese-based foods because cheese is not big in Kikuyu diets, if it's there at all. Most kids got gelato for dessert, but fearing the repercussions of lactose intolerance, I opted for a nutella-filled croissant, which was equally amazing.

Although it's probably not advisable, I actually felt relatively safe wandering around by myself in Stone Town, even at night. It is rather labrynthine, though, so I do have to focus on where I'm going and where I've come from.

We'll be doing a three-day homestay on Pemba island this week. The fast boat (two hours) is no longer a transport option due to a worker's strike that just go started a few days ago. So we'll be taking the slooow boat, which will get us there in about eight hours and departs after sundown tonight. All-night boat right and 25 college students? Oh boy.

I'm actually a bit nervous about the Pemba homestay. We've been told our families won't speak any English, so I'm anticipating a lot of pantomime and attempts at fragmented Swahili. Pemba is a rural agricultural community (it's one of two places in the world that successfully grows cloves) that's 100% Muslim. It promises to be a very different experience from my Nairobi homestay. This is also the first time Lewis & Clark College has invade Pemba, so we're the guinea pigs and the first impression -- how well we handle it may well dictate if LC is ever invited back.

We're almost done with the academic portion of the trip -- we have one more essay to pump out and D Camp's history final to sit, then it's all snorkeling and tromping round the Serengeti. I'm nowhere near done with all Sperling's readings, but they seem to be more or less optional and to-be-completed-at-your-leisure, so who knows if I'll ever get to it all, though I'd certainly like to because they're so interesting. Maybe during the week of free travel. Yeah. Beach, pina coladas, and academic reaings on Muslim customs and the ancient Swahili people. Paradise.