Wednesday, December 22, 2010

Lazing in Lamu

A few weekends ago, Anna and I escaped our busy lives at Mwamba for the peace and quiet of Lamu, an ancient Swahili town on an island just offshore from the mainland. Every volunteer and guest that visited Lamu came back raving about it, so we decided to check it out.

Our bus departed from Malindi, where we stocked up with samosas (17c each) from five eager purveyors of these deep fried delicacies before boarding the big orange bus. We just managed to secure a couple of the last seats and thus ended up right in the back corner of the bus. The warnings about the bumpy road were not exaggerated! Anna and I both got serious air as we sped through the ‘unavoidable’ potholes ­– great for the X-games but not for a 4-hour bus ride. We arrived all shook up to the point that my brain rebelled with a headache.

It was a relief to finally make it to the jetty and board the “ferry.” It was really just a 2 x 12 meter motor boat capable of carrying about 60 passengers, a few tonnes of cargo and about 20 chickens. Thankfully, the shore of Lamu Island was very swimmable in the worst case scenario.

The lethargic walking stick waving dance. Without a guitar case handy, tips are carefully slotted under the groover's hat.
 
We have an uncanny knack for unintentionally arranging trips that coincide with festivals or the Olympics. This weekend happened to be the Lamu Cultural Festival. People from all around the region come to celebrate their Swahili heritage through music, dance, boat and donkey races. As we arrived, the streets were packed as the crowds waited for the first boat race to begin.

The docile donkeys
Dhows waiting for race time.

Our first mission ashore was to find Ali, the captain of the Peace Villa dhow (an Arab-styled sailing boat). He had been recommended by Shelley, a whirlwinding volunteer at Mwamba. Once the time and terms of our dhow trip had been arranged I too was at peace. We wandered the streets, getting lost in the narrow alleys that they call “streets.” Lamu was built long before the invention of the motorized vehicle. In fact only three cars can be found on the island – a donkey ambulance, a person ambulance and a fire-fighting vehicle. The main mode of transport apart from foot and boat is the humble donkey. There are thousands of donkeys on the island – many just freely roaming around the streets. They are ridden for transport, used to carry cargo and occasionally raced.

They call this a 'street'.
After finishing a tasty mango, banana and passion juice on our first afternoon, we were approached by Salem. He was a Yemenese local offering a home-cooked meal and live Swahili music to give us a real Swahili experience. In fact he promised a free tour of Lamu, free henna tattooing for Anna and even a free ride on one of his many donkeys. Although, our con-radar was engaged and flashing we knew that Ted and Mary partook of a similar experience when they were in Lamu. The sticking point was his insistence on a deposit. Starting at 600 Ksh ($10 NZ) we talked him down to 200 Ksh. We were still fairly skeptical of his offer but thought it was worth the gamble especially since Lamu is a small place and we were bound to bump into him if he took the money and ran…

First of the day.
I think I've got her hooked now.
In the meantime we embarked on our dhow trip. We were joined by Captain Ali, his quiet crewmate and son Mohammed. We spent a few hours slowly meandering around the small islands heading towards the open ocean. This trip was very reminiscent of the sailing we did with Anna’s Dad just before leaving NZ. Though the wind was meager, it was nice to be out on the seas again – peacefully drifting past all the foreign owned mansions. Once we finally reached our destination we cast anchor and quickly readied our hand lines. Prawns were irresistible to the fishes below. It took a few casts for us to get a feel for it. Most of the fish were small and could steal our bait without consequence. But soon enough a bigger fish would have a go and be caught. I was the first to catch, pulling in a monstrous Yellow Snapper – at least 12 cm in length. Then experience took over, as the crew pulled in half a dozen more in, including a decently sized fish (~30 cm). Anna showed her skills pulling in two of her own Yellow Snappers. Once we had enough fish we anchored on Manda Island and Ali prepared us lunch. Anna and I took to the water and explored the patch of coral conveniently located by the boat. Although the water was murky, you could still see lots of beautiful fish when close to the rock. Anna even spotted a lobster that was holed up on the coral.

From the sea to the fire
A right feast!
Lunch was served under a banda, a welcome break from the sun. A real feast was had: BBQed fish, coconut rice, veges in coconut sauce, salad and fruit (the secret to Swahili cooking is to use coconut in everything). Once lunch had settled we pack the dhow and set sail for home. As we came up to Lamu, we had to carefully maneuver through the dhows lined up for the final dhow race of the festival. What a splendid trip.

Readying to set sail
In full control
As the evening approached, we waited for Salem at the designated spot for 20 minutes, but he was a no show. We moved on, wandering the streets and enjoying the sidewalk dancing. A few hours later we spotted and approached him. He complained that the place was to crowded to find us (two white sheep amongst a sea of black!!)….and um..he looked for us twice…um… In the end he admitted that he didn’t turn up. We demanded our money back but he said he had none on him having just bought the medicine in his hand. He still spoke of guests he had waiting for him at his house and that we could still join them for dinner. But we had had enough of this hoax.

We couldn’t do much more than wait for his promised return half an hour later. We might not get the money back but at least we would have an amusing cat and mouse game. Strangely he did return, unsurprisingly late and with yet more excuses for being without our money. Apparently his guests only had 100 Euros which they needed to change before he could pay us – Yeah Right! This time he gave us his hat and kikoi (think lavalava/kilt) as a pledge to be exchanged for our money the next morning.

Old town views from Lamu Fort
But turn up he did not. We trusting souls waited even 30 minutes, just wanting closure. After learning some more about Swahili culture in the Lamu Museum and scoping the sights of the old town from the ramparts of Lamu Fort, we headed for our last juice. Whilst sitting at Hapa Hapa, we spotted our man again – on the prowl for some new tourists. He came in and asked if we had his belongings and promised to return after he had gone to the bank with his ‘guests.’ We gave him 20 minutes to return. Whilst we finished our juice, someone came up and asked if we had been conned by the old man. Apparently he has been doing this racket for awhile. Embarrassed, we showed him the spoils we were holding ransom. He wished us best of luck in getting our money back.

The clock struck 11:40 AM and it was time to board the ferry back. Consoled that he was a con – we board the ferry with two souvenirs his green hat and well-used kikoi. Not bad for 200 Ksh.

The spoils

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