- Flavia’s jigger and Chris’ tropical ulcer
- Van ride up north
- Full Moon Party
- Post-Full Moon Party
- Stop at the Police Station
Now, that might not look like the most interesting weekend, but once I divulge the happenings then you’ll understand. Basically, once a month one of the resorts up north in Nungwi throws this kick ass party to celebrate the full moon. A bunch of tourists go, but there’s also always a good chunk of locals that like to check it out. It’s a great way to let loose, dance, have fun with your friends, etc.
Anyway, so Toni and I (well, mostly Toni and Rasmus) organize it so that all of the vols go up for the weekend. Right before it’s time to leave, one of the vols Flavia asks me whether or not she has a jigger in her toe. FYI – a jigger is a worm that somehow gets through the soft tissue of your foot and just hangs out there. If it stays in there long enough it lays eggs and then dies. Very awesome. Needless to say, I tell her yes, ‘cause I’m 99.9% sure that that’s what it is, despite her fiancé trying to tell her differently. So, I ask one of our cooks Fadhili if it is, he says yes, and then he proceeds to get it out. Not as gross as it sounds, just definitely not something you see back in the States. Then her fiancé Chris starts looking at this thing he’s had on his leg for quite a while – which I about a week before this had said was lookin’ like my tropical ulcer did and that he should get it checked out – and said that it was hurting him. ‘Cause we were all in doctor-playing modes, Flavia and I start trying to care for his leg. Let’s all remember back to when I talked about mine; had to cut the scab open and squeeze all the shit out of it. He wasn’t impressed. And THEN (right before we were all set to leave) he decided that maybe he wants to go to Dr Hamza. Well-timed, sir. ;)
After all of the shenanigans were over we were on our way. Our van was deemed the party van, purely because of the sheer amounts of crazy (people) that were in it. Quick breakdown: two Germans, one Brit, one Swede/fake-Brit, two Aussies, and an American. Yeah, it was nuts. The van ride up was just epic. Everyone was in a goofy mood, so we were all jamming – and I mean that literally; there was even water bottle microphone singing! – to people’s iPods and just being pretty much idiots. Range of songs to which were listened: ‘What’s Love Got to Do With It?,’ ‘Girls Just Wanna Have Fun,’ ‘Run This Town,’ and some good ol’ Whitney Houston.
Once we finally arrived Friday evening, it was just in time for everyone to drop their stuff at respective lodgings and then regroup for dinner. Pretty calm dinner and walking around… Yeah, no, I totally lied. I forgot that after dinner a group of us went to this beach bar and continued to knock back some drinks. Yeaaaaah. Forgot about that one. Haha. It was good times. Totally learned more about people than I really needed to and found out that I am forever destined to be like people’s best mates and never anything more (not that I’m bitter or anything…). Checked out a Rasta bar but didn’t stick around for long – for some reason I just can’t quite make it past 2 am anymore. Called Ri, got a semi-update about how ridiculously awful my boys have been doing while I’ve been gone. [Although Tazer’s Hatty and then their subsequent win in Vancouver (right? Crawford’s almost-shutout of 7-1?) are starting to redeem themselves. Keep it up! Aaaand they lost to San Jose. Well done, guys.]
Saturday day itself is quite lazy: laying in the sun and swimming in the most beautifully clear water ever. Don’t know why I didn’t dive; in hindsight, I totally should’ve! After lunch – which I didn’t mind, but I guess everyone else found it terrible? You can so tell my standards no longer match other people’s or what they used to be – we all headed off to our respective hotels ‘cause we were all knackered and wanted to be ready for the party that evening. Had a GLORIOUS two and a half hour nap before getting my shit together, taking a shower, and getting dressed (yes, like a female!) for the night’s events. Finally got to Kendwa Rocks – the hotel where the party was to take place – and ordered our dinner. While waiting, we partook in silly antics some of us cooked up before we left for the weekend. For example, I had to say ‘That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard!’ before I started a drink and right before I took the last sip. Someone else had to do a chest pop every time the word ‘drink’ was said. And only a select few were in on it, so whenever it happened, we would all burst into a fit of giggles. The English speakers tried to teach some Germans and Dutch people how to play Ring of Fire and that ended up being quite… interesting/entertaining. Some people were a bit sullen for unknown reasons, but then after a few drinks were consumed, everyone started to loosen up. I know I did – as I don’t normally do splits on the middle of beaches. Haha. I don’t know exactly what flicked the switch, but around half 12 everyone hit the dance floor. So. Much. Fun. Excellent jams, just kickin’ it with friends and one of our students from Jambiani – a story in itself… – and totally just enjoying the night!
However, since all good things must come to an end, around 2 o’clock one of the vols comes up to me and she’s like ‘Greer’s bag is gone.’ I’m fairly certain that you could’ve knocked me over with a feather when that was said. For one, that means a vol’s bag was stolen, but in addition, MY Blackberry (I knew I shouldn’t have gotten one of those to take with me to Africa!), small digital camera, some cash, and my sweater were all put in there for safe keeping as well. Without really reacting, I just peaced out to go sit on the beach and just stare at the water. Two of the vols came out after me, but weren’t overbearing, just kind of silently sitting down next to me and letting me just process through it out on my own. And when I was finally ready to face the situation, they pulled me into a hug. Head back into the party only to be told the real kicker to the situation: the keys to the car in which we rode were in the bag as well. Which meant that we were unable to get into the car to get back to our hotels, not like we would be able to get into our rooms, ‘cause a bunch of us had locked our room keys in the car for ‘safekeeping.’ Isn’t it funny how karma works? Drunken frantic running around trying to figure out what next to do ensued. Taxi was taken back to Nungwi, where I burst into a fit of hysterical laughter, grab two of the girls, and literally run straight into the ocean, fully-clothed. It just needed to happen. We had talked earlier about doing a midnight swim anyway, and half 2 in the morning, after all of this shit seemed like the perfect time to do it. :) But then again, it once again came back to kick us in the ass, ‘cause when Greer, Ben, Jess, and I headed back to our hotel, we were told that the manager herself was at the Full Moon Party, so we’d have to wait until she got back for us to ask for spare keys. Are you havin’ a giraffe? So, the four of us jumped into a hammock, a couch, and two pulled-together chairs and slept outside – with the MILLIONS of mozzies whining around our heads – for two hours, the time now being 5 am, until someone came back to the hotel. When that happened, we had a chat, as much of a chat as you can have to someone who only speaks kiSwahili, only to find out that THERE ARE NO SPARE KEYS for our rooms. I promise I’m not making this shit up. So, all four of us, the three girls all shivering because of our wet clothes and the cold of the night, got to crash in some random room for another two hours before we had to get up for breakfast and try to get all of our stuff out of our respective rooms in time for check out. Greer left earlier ‘cause she had to get back to her hotel and find HER spare key, as well as get to the police station, if you can really even call it that, to file a police report. Which meant that when Jess and I woke up, since our dresses were still wet, we had to take the sheets off of our beds and make couture kanga gowns out of them in order to not be naked while going to eat. I seriously wish I had had my camera so that I could’ve taken a picture in all of our ridiculousness. Long story short (too late), got into our rooms, got our stuff, checked out, thanked the guys working profusely, and then headed to the other hotel.
When we got there, we found out that since we didn’t have the key to the car we left in Kendwa, we were going to have to wait for a fundi – handyman – to be driven out from Stone Town so he could break into the car and then hotwire so we could return it to its owner. Oh, have I forgot to mention that both of the cars we took up to Nungwi were rented and that we were going to be charged a fortune if anything happened to them?! Yeah, adding to the drama. So, we’re all sitting around, waiting for news and the latest update only for Toni and Rasmus to roll up and then hand over the small clutch in which I had everything the night before. BUT the only thing that was in it were the car keys (weird, right?) and the key to Greer’s hotel room. It’s funny how things work out, eh? We all finally get into the car around 2 pm, but before we can head back to town, we have to make a stop at the police station, so Greer can amend her police report to include my camera and the cash that I had in my clutch. The asshole police officer won’t let her, so I have to go in and file my own police report. Dude was a dick to us, asking us why didn’t we include it to begin with and why had we waited until just then to report it instead of first thing in the morning. Luckily Rasmus was with us so he used his Swahili charm to tell them that we were volunteer teachers and it wasn’t our fault, blah, blah, blah. But that took a good 30-45 minutes before we could actually head to Stone Town to drop off the cars and have lunch before heading back to Jambiani. Had a delicious meal at Lukmann’s, although that’s always the case. Brooded out the window all the way back from Stone Town, had dinner when we got back to Grand, and then basically crawled into bed and slept until it was time to get up for nursery school.
Exhausting weekend, that’s for sure. And in hindsight, I enjoyed most of it. There are parts I’d obviously like to forget (some more obvious than others), but when it all comes down to it, the things that I lost were just material objects. Granted they were a bit pricey, but all of the pictures from my camera were already on my computer and my Blackberry only had numbers and texts that needed to be saved, nothing more. At the end of the day, that isn’t the stuff that really matters. Everyone is safe and sound at home, no one was hurt, we all have hilarious anecdotes from the experience and we’ve become (mostly) fast friends because of it. Definitely an AWA moment, but now that it’s over, it’s quite hysterical. I’m sure reading this is not going to be as entertaining as it will be to actually hear it from me ‘cause I’ll be able to add funny random tidbits of information. But until I get a chance to see all your beautiful, smiling faces, this will just have to do.
In the mean time, I need phone numbers from pretty much everyone and their brother. Either FB message them to me or text them to my American number. Won’t necessarily be able to answer your texts, but I will get them. Have a new, working phone at the moment, so I’ll use that through the rest of my travels until I get back to the States and use my old one.
Know that I love and miss you all!