Ze Doo Doo and Ze Electric Death

As we were clearing the security checkpoint for our flight out of Tanzania to the island of Mauritius, there was the customary large, clear plastic bin of items that have been confiscated over the months.  I never understood what the purpose of this display is...is it a deterrent against bringing tweezers on board?  By the time a passenger gets to this point, his or her luggage is checked.  It is a little late to be reminding people now.

Jordan studied the objects inside the bin, fascinated by the different items that security felt obliged to confiscate.  In a loud, boisterous voice Jordan would comment on how stupid it would be to try and hijack a plane with, say, fingernail clippers.  I was worried that he was drawing a bit too much attention to the subject.

"Hey Dad, look! The airline gave us forks! If someone wanted to hijack a plane with a fork, they could just use this one!"

Obviously some passengers just have different objectives in flying.  It would seem that someone had been planning a picnic at 33,000 feet because nestled in with the Swiss army knives, fingernail files and hair picks were several ordinary table forks.  What's up with that?  I feel much safer knowing that the skies are free of forks.

Less than an hour later, we were airborne and enjoying the in-flight dinner.  I mean, REALLY enjoying it.  I realized that this was the best meal I had had in longer than I cared to remember.  I was just thinking of how pathetic that was when Jordan stood up, held a metal fork above his head, and yelled from across two aisles of seats:

"Hey Dad, look!  The airline gave us forks!  If someone wanted to hijack a plane with a fork, they  could just use this one!"

I have been contemplating writing a book titled, "101 Ways to Get On CNN."  I will have to add "Fly anywhere with Jordan" to the list.

We arrived in Mauritius without the accoutrements of handcuffs or leg shackles.

We stepped off of the plane to experience the perfect temperature that is only possible in the tropics where the air is warm yet the breeze is pleasantly cool with a hint of salt spray.  To top it off, they sell fireworks in the grocery stores.  Big ones.  How can you not love a place like this?

Mauritius is a tiny dot on the the average globe, if it is present at all.  Situated just above the Tropic of Capricorn 700 km east of Madagascar and 12 time zones away from California, we are about as far away from home as we can get.  And it feels absolutely wonderful!  Best of all, Mr. Singy-person is not here.  Yeah!

We have learned that the economy here is based primarily on sugar and French tourism.  Unfortunately, the sugar industry is sagging and you shouldn't rely on the French for anything.  The island is trying to remake itself into a "Cyber Island" to compete with India for offshore software development.  If the plan fails, the country could go the way of the dodo.

Which, we discovered, is Mauritius' claim to fame.  Our taxi driver from the airport was an Indian gentleman with a perfect French accent.  I find it a bit unnerving when someone I am talking to doesn't have the accent that my sterotype has assigned them.  Anyhow, our driver took it upon himself to tell us everything there was to know about his island home on our drive from the airport.  With his Mauritian French accent his pronounciation of "dodo" came out "doo-doo."  It took us some time to figure out what he was talking about:

Ze French, when zey first come to Mauritius, zey love to eat ze doo-doo.  It is delicous to them."

"How is that again?"

"Ze doo-doo, zey cannot fly and are easy to catch.  Ze French eat all the doo-doo, so it is now extinct".

Oh.  It dawned on me that Mr. Taxi-Driver assumed we had never heard of the story of the dodo.  I had always thought it was the Dutch who drove the dodo to extinction, which is what Google later confirmed, but I never realized I was visiting the dodo's former home.  During the remainder of the drive from the airport Mr. Taxi-Driver must have thought I was having spasms as I was forced to stifle sniggers as visions of the doo-doo eating French went through my mind.  Even though inaccurate, I can't help but like Mr. Taxi-Driver's version of the dodo's demise better, as the French are so delightful to poke fun at.

We have found that there is dodo everything everywhere - dodo matches to dodo lipstick to dodo butter.  We made it a point to avoid the Dodo Travel Agency.  I've explained to the kids that we can't leave until we find a real dodo.

There are no indigenous peoples of Mauritius.  Those that carry Mauritian passports come from three diverse cultures including Hindu, Muslim and Christian. This makes Mauritius a bit of a party island, with a holiday seemingly every other day as they celebrate everything.  During our 10-day stay, there were two bank holidays, one Hindu and one Muslim.  Right now the palm trees are decorated with "Christmas" lights.  They were put up for the Hindu holiday of Divali, stayed up for the final days of Muslim Ramadan, and will stay up after Ramadan for Christmas.

We rented an apartment for the week we will be here and plan to do nothing.  It's kind of a vacation from our travels.

Well, not absolutely nothing.  With plans to compete with Chili's Molten Chocolate Cake, Katrina has been wanting to bake.  And clearly September was having similar thoughts to what I had been thinking on the plane when I was enjoying the dinner provided by Air Mauritius, because when September and Katrina returned back to the apartment from grocery shopping, it looked like they were returning from Costco ready to stock a bomb shelter for a year's duration.

"Y2K is over.  Nothing happened,"  I said as I helped them carry the groceries into the apartment.

"Huh?  What do you mean?"

"It looks like we have enough stuff to last us for a year, but we leave in 7 days.  How are we going to use 10 pounds of table sugar, and a pound each of raw sugar, brown sugar, powdered sugar?  Do we really need 9 different kinds of spices?  And cake pans? And how are we ever going to use 20 pounds of potatoes?"

At least I noted that they had picked up a small mountain of fireworks.  I am glad to see they have some perspective on what is important.  So what if we stocked the apartment with enough baking chocolate to last through to the next millenium?

Oddly, everyone we have met has guessed that we are on a extended around-the-world trip.  When people ask us where we are from the unanimous comment is that it is quite rare for Americans to come here.  That is understandable when you consider that we are on the opposite side of the Earth and in the southern hemisphere.  This is a wonderful island paradise, but there are many other worthy island paradises between here and back home.  So, I suppose it makes sense that it is a rare Yankee that visits for the sole purpose of a holiday and that the ones that do make it this far visit as part of a longer itinerary.

Mauritius is turning out to be a grand experience.  I would have been satisfied with just not having to brush my teeth with bottled water any longer, but potable water from the tap is only the beginning.   Mauritius is thoroughly modern.  The electricity actually works, there is a ATM machine on every corner, and I haven't been to grocery store that has been as well stocked since we left California.  Add to that the crystal clear turquoise water of the Indian Ocean and you can understand why I told the kids we aren't leaving until they find a dodo bird.

Most memorable of all is our evenings when we give the town our evening fireworks show.  Even though we can buy fireworks in the grocery store, every time I light a fuse I can't help but think that this much fun surely can't be legal.  Every night we keep going for bigger and bigger thrills.  The stuff we set off last night would not have been out of place at Shoreline Park on the fourth of July.  As window-rattling booms wash over the island and trails of flaming flowers of gunpowder light up the night sky, I keep looking over my shoulder for the police to storm the beach in riot gear and haul me away.

That said, all is not perfect in paradise.  The 'skeeters here drive me insane.  I was prepared for all-out insect warfare in Tanzania.  It was just part of the stereotype that I had of the place.  Gratefully we visited Tanzania at the end of the dry season and there was almost nothing trying to nibble on me without my permission.

I have visited places that have a worse mosquito problem than Mauritius.  Alaska comes to mind.  So does Germany, come to think of it.  But I bring this up because the mosquitoes give us a perfect opportunity to deploy The Zapper.  Jordan thinks this is the greatest thing since air.  So do I.

We saw a Zapper in action in Dar es Saalam.  It looks like a tennis racket, but instead of being strung taught with nylon it has a mesh of electrical wire.  It is powered by two "D" batteries and when you swat a fly or mosquito with it, there is a satisfyingly loud  CRACK and a surprisingly large flash as a spark of electrity fries the critter to a crisp.  On more than one occasion we have had a little insect carcass go up in flames, which is an extra thrill if you happen to be in a tent at the time.  We learned not to poke your finger into the mesh when it is powered.  I cannot imagine this product getting the seal of approval from Ralph Nader.

When we first saw the Zapper in action, Jordan had to have one.  He wouldn't shut up until we went out and bought one.  We took it on safari with us, thinking that our campsites would be overrun with all manner of flying things out to get us.  But we were pleasantly surprised.  Unfortunately, this meant that while on safari the Zapper sat in a corner, neglected.

No longer.  The Zapper has given Jordan a new purpose in life.  He wields it like a Jedi brandishing a light saber.  Whenever we see a mosquito, we sound the alarm and he comes running with the gleam of a hunter in his eye.  He reminds me of the scene from "The Christmas Story" when Ralphie is fantasizing about saving his family from Black Bart with his Range-Rider BB Gun.  Too bad the Zapper doesn't have a compass in the stock.  I'll have to work on upgrading it.

I would love to stay here an extra week, month or even the rest of our year.  Or longer.  Being a responsible grown-up can be such a disadvantage sometimes.  Our itinerary calls for us to fly to Singapore next where we spend just a few days before going to Japan.  But, I may just misplace the passports.....