What an introduction

The view from the top floor of the Full Moon Party at Kendwa.
see all photos »

Zanzibar is amazing. You take a ferry to get there that kind of bumps over the waves, and if you stand on the top deck you can see the awesome contrast of placid ocean and turbulent clouds for miles. The wind and the pitching of the boat on the waves are humbling.

We arrived just as the sun was going down and got to immigration in the dark. I had been told that you don’t normally need a passport but that this weekend they would probably check. I did not bring my passport. They checked. The nice officer (who made us wait for a hour while he stamped all the other passengers) asked the mean guard (who Josh argued with in Kiswahili while I apologized, “pole sana”) what to do. The mean guard asked the head immigration officer what to do, by which I mean he left the office, came back, and asked me to pay a “no passport fee” of Tsh 10,000. Having lost my anti-corruption street cred, I entered Zanzibar.

The bottom line—great party, totally worth the trip. In fact, next month I’m planning to do the trip out in a dhow (sailboat).

Josh and an American here volunteering with Cross-Cultural Solutions.
see all photos »

This was the weekend of ZIFF, the Zanzibar International Film Festival, so there were droves of watalii (tourists). The few short films I saw were good, but the most amazing part of Stonetown was the physical town itself—the ornate doors and maze-like streets. I spent hours just walking, looking at the crazy way the city had been put together and challenging myself to navigate the narrow, angular alleys without having to turn around.

But the best part of the trip—by far—lay outside Stonetown, an hour and a half north on a little piece of the island called Kendwa. Once a month, the resort in Kendwa throws a party on the beach called the Full Moon Party. I first heard about this party from my friend Mbwana while I was still at Stanford and have been dreaming about it ever since. It met my excessive expectations.

Part of the party is the anticipation—we had rented a really shitty minivan of a cab that hit an mbwa (dog) and then popped a tire on the way up. There are also police checkpoints along the way that are a little questionable, especially for wazungu (white people), but this time Josh’s Kiswahili got us through. The last few kilometers to the resort, where the unpaved road is jagged with boulders and huge potholes, are iffy in a SUV.

Because the party is so good, the ordeal of getting there somehow makes it even better. The bar has a couple different levels, one of which is just beach and one is a really cool upper balcony. There are hammocks and carved wooden benches all over the beach, or you can walk down to sit by the water. With several bars, it never gets too crowded to dive in and get a drink.

There’s also a great mix of people, and everyone is so blissful and curious how and why everyone else got up to such a remote place for a party that they’re really friendly. I met a great and ridiculous group of American students volunteering with Cross Cultural Solutions, lots of Zanzibaris who work in tourism on the north shore, some Dar residents, and of course the swanky and really intriguing international tourists in Africa.

The bottom line—great party, totally worth the trip. In fact, next month I’m planning to do the trip out in a dhow (sailboat).