With the zulus at Zamimpilo market

Our idea is to find some zulu women willing to teach us their handcraft. Elodie is interested in the weaving of zulu baskets and I am keen to learn anything really, they make so many beautiful things… We have an idea of the area where to go and after asking one person who sends us to another person who suggests us to go to another place, we find exactly what we are looking for: Zamimpilo market! Zamimpilo is a community of 144 women. They manage the market 24-7 where they sell fruits and vegetables in the front and handcraft in the back. Behind the market there is a huge space where they prepare the fruits and those women who don’t work from home have a workshop where they make their craft. Some are making baskets, others ceramics, beads, shoes, mats… They sing and dance for us to welcome us in their community. We can start from Monday and one of the women, Bhekiwe comes up to us to ask us if we would like to stay with her and her family during these days. You bet we will!

During the weekend, the women all go to church, either Saturday or Sunday. Mrs Thusi, the manager of the market, invites us to her church, a Christian Lutheran church, in a huge tent filled with a congregation all dressed in white. She has previously dressed us up in traditional zulu skirts, necklace, bracelet and hair band. When we arrive, the archbishop invites us to come in front, so we can photograph and film the faces. The scene is hilarious. Mass lasts for more than three hours and we witness preaching in zulu, crying, screaming, zulu dances, drumming and even vuvuzelas. What an experience! The following day we also attend mass, but on a smaller scale, in a small gospel church. We are still dressed up in zulu costumes, we are getting used to that now. The rest of the weekend goes by with washing of our clothes and spending time with our host family. Nothile shows us her school and we even get to meet her teachers.

The first thing we experience when showing up when they told us to come Monday morning is that time is quite different from our time. Nobody is there! We wait. The women in the front ask us to help them to sell. We can do that. Each woman manages her own little stand, but they take turns selling. We take the payment from the customer and put the named price tags in a huge basket. Twice a day, the money and the tags are counted and the pay is distributed among the women, minus 10% for the running of the market.

Finally some of the women arrive and they start showing us different crafts. I start with beadwork. Ritta shows me how to make a round zulu necklace with lots of colors. I realize how long it actually takes to make it. She also shows me a bracelet. Suddenly, one of the women gets up and starts dancing, two others swing a rope and soon we’re three jumping in it. It is quite tiring to sit all day and this is nice distraction.

On my second day I can finally start with ceramics. The zulu women make beautiful big black clay pots with different designs: ukhambas. Gladness gives me one of her aprons and I can start. I enjoy making these big clay pots. We form the pot by building up coils of clay and smoothing them down with the back of a spoon and an old telephone card. Then the pot is left to dry and only after we decorate it with little lumps and thin coils on which we roll a wheel with a pattern. In total I make three of them, but they are too big to carry, especially because they are not fired.

One day we visit a Sangoma, a traditional healer, with our guide friend Xolani. She lives in a traditional zulu village, surrounded by her children and grandchildren. She was chosen to be the next Sangoma when she was very young. She treats all sorts of different illnesses, from stroke to less serious cases. She also talks to the spirits and predicts the future. We spend some time with her where we ask her all sorts of questions.

On Friday we do the firing of the clay pots. There is no kiln; the fire is prepared on the ground, with old wooden pallets and dead trees. The pots are placed in between the wood and the fire is then lit. They do two firings like this: a small one to start with, then a bigger one. Each one takes about one hour to burn down. The last firing is to give the pot its black color. Before we start, one of the women paints my face with red clay, to protect the skin against the sun and the heat from the fire.

On my last day I learn how to make the traditional zulu baskets. That is, I start one. Making a basket takes a long time– a medium-sized basket can take about a month to make The women use palm leaves that are cut until they have the right thickness. These are thread on a thick needle made from an old umbrella and sown around a base that makes the thickness of the walls. To make colors; they use roots, leaves, berries, and tree bark. It is hard work and I pierce my fingers, more than once.

After 10 days with the women, it is time for us to go, but not light-hearted. These women have become our friends now. To say goodbye, we all dance to traditional zulu songs and even a drum  I hope to come back one day.

photos Zamimpilo

South Africa - Johannesburg

We only make a short stopover in Johannesburg and don’t get to explore much of the city. Billy hosts us for two nights and his lovely niece Ruth takes good care of us. Rebecca cuts and fixes our hair. Elodie arrives one day after me and we pick up our car at the airport, a brand new (only 67 km), white Nissan Baki with space to sleep in the back. We cover the windows with black plastic bags and stow our stuff in the back. This is our home for the next two weeks. We are both very excited about our following adventures in Zululand!

photos Jo'burg

Zanzibar

Zanzibar, also called the Spice Island is so different from mainland Tanzania! I had gotten used to being the only white person. Here tourists are everywhere. I ask for the cheapest and best hostel and a man brings me to Manch Lodge. If you want a nice place to stay on Zanzibar, this is it! The dorm is huge with big beds lined up against the wall like in an orphanage. In total I stay three weeks on Zanzibar, in different places on the island, but whenever I’m in Stone town, this is where I stay.

Zanzibar has a rich history and the architecture of Stone town witnesses of many influences. The massive wooden doors are of Arab influence. Stone Town used to be Africa’s main port for the slave market between Africa and Asia. The British then gained control over Zanzibar and abolished the slave trade. In 1964 Zanzibar became part of Tanzania.

I am very excited because I have booked a dolphin tour on my first day here. We set out in a boat, search for dolphins for an hour, snorkel a little bit, then search again. I am sitting on the edge of the boat, waiting for them to show up so I can jump in and swim with them. We see two Humboldt dolphins but they disappear as fast as they appeared. Then, three bottlenose dolphins surfing on a wave approach our boat. Jump says the driver and so I do. They are there, I can see them but then they disappear too. Still, it was a great experience, AND not the last one with dolphins. Unfortunately, the water but also the wind is cold and I didn’t bring enough clothes. On my return I feel like crap and go to bed. Some people at the hostel bring me water and try to convince me that I have malaria! Luckily I don’t have it.

My second dolphin experience happens two days later, with Caren from Kenya and Ken from Glasgow. We have booked a spice tour combined with Prison Island with a local guy, Juma. The spice tour is very interesting. We get to taste pepper, ginger, nutmeg, cloves, chili, and cinnamon among others and see how they grow. They decorate us with lots of different accessories made from grass as you can see on the pictures. A local kid climbs a palm tree with a rope tied around his legs. I even climb a tree to see if I haven’t forgotten how to do it. The lunch is delicious and desert is local fruit. The Jackfruit is a pleasant surprise and Caren swears she could eat at least five of them!

The afternoon starts with a nice boat ride to Prison Island. Juma then guides us through the island: women gathering shells on the beach, giant tortoises as old as 189 years old, the buildings meant to be a prison but that were used as a quarantine station for ships going to Zanzibar. We put on our snorkeling equipment and jump into the water. After half an hour Caren shouts: dolphins! Three of them! We swim as fast as we can to reach them. They are not afraid of us, three wild dolphins, a mother, her baby and a huge one. Thy swim around us, under us, in front of us, as if they are playing. I can’t believe this is happening! They stay half an hour at least, then they swim off into the ocean. Wow! So unexpected, the dolphins are not supposed to be there at all!

Nungwi is my next destination, in the North of Zanzibar. Juma organizes our transport. He is very professional and his prices are more than correct, after a little bargaining of course… The place is amazing: beach, turquoise water, lots of sun, Dhow boats, Sea Turtles, snorkeling, yoga on the beach, fake Masais, Mister Quality Products (he said it was his real name), relaxing, bargaining… Even more amazing than the place though, are the people I spent time with here: Miriam, Martin, Ken, Caren, Elvie, Jolanda. Without you it would not have been the same! So thank you for these fantastic days in Nungwi, I will never forget…

My plan was to volunteer in Kenya but as this doesn’t work out, I decide to learn something new. Since I first saw the Tinga Tinga paintings I have wanted to learn how to paint them. Tinga Tinga is a painting style that developed near Dar Es Salaam in the second half of the 20^th century. It is a naïve and caricatural representation of African animals, very bright and colorful. Oscar accepts me as a student in his workshop. During five days I work from morning till evening to learn as much as possible. The smell of paint and kerosene sticks to my clothes. During the night I dream of lions, giraffes and elephants running over my canvas. During the day I paint them. What wonderful days…

My last destination on Zanzibar is Paje. It is on the East coast of the island and I have no problems understanding why they call it Kitesurfer’s Paradise. My kite lessons start the next day, with a local guy who charges 4 times less than the kite schools.

Lesson One: master a small kite by playing with it on the beach

Lesson Two: security measures with the big kite.

Lesson Three: master the big kite

Lesson Four: Body dragging. You basically let the big kite drag you in the water, without the board.

This is as far as I got this time. Next time I will start on the board, but now I have to go to South Africa and meet Elodie.

photos Zanzibar

Dar es Salaam

Digna and I take the morning bus to Dar es Salaam where the family is expecting us. We are all here for the same reason, to celebrate the communion of Zeno, a ten year old boy. On my first day, Athanase takes me to the city as we live a little bit outside of town. The micros here are if possible even fuller than any other place I have been, and people push to squeeze in even more passengers. It takes more than two hours to get to town and to be honest it is not a very nice one. The beach however is nice and it is only two buses and a ferry away… The moon is beautiful tonight and as I was watching it rise I thought to myself that either you have or you will be watching the same moon wherever you are in the world.

The day of the celebration we first all go to church. It is not a stone church or brick church like we have at home. It is a huge tent and whoever doesn’t fit inside it can sit outside, on one of the nearby hills. That is what we do so we can enjoy some sunlight at the same time. After mass we head to the family house where everybody is getting ready. Last preparations before the big evening which proves to be perfect! The food is so delicious and there is a lot of dancing. Zeno is in the center of the celebration, gets a lot of gifts and even gets to drink champagne. I know about one happy boy who is going to sleep tonight.

photos Dar es Salaam