Zanzibar Through the Eyes of the Locals – Part 2

I could’ve hardly found the house myself, since it was hidden in the thicket. And the Google Maps location was a bit inaccurate because the houses there don’t have numbers. Oh, and the owner told me not to tell the locals where I lived because the house didn’t have any guards or a fence... Actually, it didn’t even have a gate. I would’ve been completely lost without the help of the German family. The family members showed me how to pump the water from the well using the generator, how to use the solar panel to charge my phone, and they shared a few practical pieces of information of their own in general.

For me, the first day, when I arrive at the new location, is usually the hardest. I always have certain expectations and things never turn out the way I imagined or the way it was described on the Workaway profile.

Food with extra ant protein

“Food! I desperately need food!” I only had two eggs, the ones the gardener gave me, and a few chapatis. I called the owner on the very same day to ask her if she could bring me a week’s worth of food by car. I really didn’t know how long I would spend in that house. And then there was that other problem. The African ants that ate everything they came across. Even the German family warned me about those ants. They comforted me, telling me that, after a few days, the ants on my plate wouldn’t bother me anymore. I just grimaced and thought to myself that I’d never stoop so low. I’m not eating ants, ever!

I started using new techniques to prevent the ants from getting into the corn flour. Had I left it on the kitchen counter, it would’ve been too easy a target. But I got a brilliant idea, or at least it seemed like one at the time. I was going to put the flour in a plastic bag and hang it on the clothesline in the middle of the tropical garden. They definitely won’t find it there. Yeash, sure! How optimistic of me.

I once forgot a chapati/tortilla in my backpack. It was crawling with ants the next morning. They were all over my earphones and they even found their way into every hole in my laptop’s keyboard and even crawled over my underwear...

I just couldn’t get rid of them. They were literally everywhere, despite taking care of hygiene as best as I could.

It’s difficult for me to admit it but, after a few days, I didn’t care anymore if my meal was enriched with ant protein.

I started buying myself food as needed due to the voracious ants.

“What else do I need? Petrol for the generator.” I wrote to the owner.

“I’ll be able to charge my phone in the house. If the solar panel stops working, I can charge it at the local shop.”

»Toilet paper. They use water instead of toilet paper in Zanzibar, which is a hundred times eco-friendlier anyway. But I just can’t go without toilet paper. Sorry, nature!”

My Zanzibar estate

It was really all mine for two weeks! The house consisted of two small towers shaped like a beehive and each had two rooms. Only one was suitable for sleeping, though. There was a kitchen with a gas cylinder, a dining room and a relaxation area with three hammocks outside under the roof. I used one hammock in the morning, one in the afternoon, and one for unexpected guests, such as Viktor who invited himself over each morning. Viktor is, of course, a tabby cat. :)

Next to the house was a large garden with vegetables (tomatoes, bell peppers, chili, zucchinis), fruit (banana trees, papayas) and various herbs... Between the house and the garden were an outdoor toilet and a shower, and if you took a shower at night, you could look up at the stars. It was quite romantic.

My first night at the “shack”

When I checked to see what kind of condition the rooms were in, I decided to sleep outside. The German told me it was safe and that he, too, always slept outside when the family was still living there. And so, I spent the first night in the hammock. Well, spent the whole night awake, more or less. I flinched at every sound. And the hammock didn’t help much, since it wasn’t exactly comfortable.

A Swiss man who had also lived in the “shack” (I just call it a shack because it was in a really bad shape) came to say hello the next morning. Now he only comes to visit to say hello to his late cat that’s buried in the back garden.

We clicked right away and started discussing the life in Europe and Africa, and the coronavirus situation, plus he shared his views on the people of Zanzibar and the Kizimkazi village. He, too, said that the house was completely safe and that nothing would happen to me, even if I were all by myself. But he also said I should keep an eye on my things and lock up all valuables.

0:2 (for house safety)

I already feel much better!

At first, I thought I’d get bored to death there (I could only water the garden early in the morning because it would get too hot throughout the day), but I had constant visits. My nearest neighbour visited me in the afternoon. He lived about five minutes from my house. He’s a very hospitable local and he was shocked, to put it mildly, when he found out I was sleeping in the hammock at night all by myself.

1:2 (for house safety)

“He told me not to even think about walking around the house all alone at night because someone could rob me!!!” Fine, fine, don’t tell me that now, in the evening, how am I supposed to even sleep now?! I decided to spend the next night in a room behind closed doors. “Better safe than sorry.” I slowly entered my own routine, got used to being alone and spent the whole day in the hammock (you don’t really feel like doing anything else in the scorching heat). I had some basic food, petrol and drinking water. It actually felt really good to be away from the constant attention I used to draw at every turn. It took me two days to get out there and to the village of Kizimkazi.