round 2

if my second trip to zanzibar was a boxing match, i would have been felled by TKO somewhere in the early fourth round. my 'fight' ended with me in a minibus lying on the floor with my backpack as a pillow as i sped towards the airport in stone town...a full two hours after my scheduled departure. i was utterly defeated and felt like i was doing to die. but to see how i got here, lets just start at the beginning.

i was originally supposed to fly back to the mara on saturday, but after receiving my work schedule in print, i decided that would be a terrible idea; starting today, i will not have any time off until the end of september. after discussing this with anthony and getting the ok to get out of town, i contacted billy.

billy, famous for going for the weak link in the group and keeping you out til sunrise, is my friend from my last zanzibar adventure. he wrote back to my email almost immediately and informed me that he was going to zanzibar with two friends from the states. within an hour i was packed and had a plane ticket.

night one was in dar es salaam, or just dar. this is a pit. i arrived in the late evening and was met at the airport by billy and ashish (real name, friend from states). we opted not to take a taxi and instead hop in a much feared dalla-dalla for the ride into town. as we crammed in they assured us there was room, but i was a nonbeliever. i, along with ashish, was forced to stand and as a dalla-dalla barely has enough head room for me when i sit, i was pretty much bent over at the waist with my face nestled somehwere near a large african's ass. fantastic start to the trip, what would be great now is if he could just let a little fart slip out.

but enough of that. after dinner on the beach, we headed to garden bistro for an 'easy' night. we didnt want to ruin ourselves for our zanzibar departure the following day. after a hookah and a few beers, i soon realized that this would not be the night i had in mind. hookers were hitting on billy as he danced and harassing ashish and i as we watched, laughing at billy as he fended off the repeated attacks.

they are quite grabby, the hookers, and dont really like to hear you say no. i, however, was adamant in my refusals; i would rather play russian roulette with six in the chamber than so much as shake hands with a prostitute (no offense to the hookers of the world, im sure some of you are very nice ladies). billy on the other hand was turning into a sort giggolo. while the ladies of the night constantly ask you for drinks, billy decided to turn the tables on the one harassing him and demand a drink from her. astonished, she actually complied and billy gave us a beaming smile and a thumbs up, exclaiming that 'hey, a hooker just bought me a beer!'

one small victory for us. she eventually offered him money to go home with her, but he declined.

as for the rest of the night, it wasnt all hookers. i met some american marines who guarded the embassy and they invited me back for cards at their secret hidden away bar in ther basement of their large house. maybe next time. some local girls, very nice, not hookers, chatted us up for awhile and then it was time to call it a night....or day, it was afterall 6am and as we wandered home, the muslim calls to prayer rang out from the tall towers of the city's many mosques. i felt so far from home, and in such violation of everything good and holy in this world.

day two. we found our way to the airport around 2pm for our 330pm flight and met up with another friend along for the voyage, gerard. after the introductions billy split for his flight which left out of a different terminal, at which point me, ashish and gerard made our way to the departure lounge for some much needed hydration.

as we sat around eating and drinking, i noticed a very official looking man next to us with his face buried in a bloody mary, and another empty one by his side. in fact this man looked so official that he just so happened to be a pilot. i checked to be sure that he wasnt a precison air (our airline) pilot and, thankfully he was not. he flew for tanzanair. not my problem, i didnt come to africa to blow whistles and tell people that drinking and flying planes full of tourists was a bad idea. he soon picked himself up off the bar, only after yet another cocktail, threw on the official issue pilot shades, and stumbled towards some official looking entrance to go do some sort of official things while officially wasted.

we landed in zanzibar right about the same time that billy's flight came in and we met him on the tarmac. much to my astonishment and sheer terror, billy walked right off a small tanzanair flight captained by a man who i recognized. if you havent put this together yet, his pilot was the official looking alcoholic whom i shared a bar with just an hour before. only in africa.

quite a relaxed first night on the island. we decided to take it easy and save up for nungwi.

this was a good decision. that first night, billy led us to yet another sunrise as we passed the night playing cards with two aussies and three girls from norway. the aussies were outrageous; two guys in their mid twenties, cashed up and ready to go at the drop of a hat. they made john belushi look like a weak drinker. the norweigan girls were everything you would want girls from norway to be, and a bit more; blonde, accented, attractive, interested in young american safari workers, etc.

they taught us all sorts of card games and entertained us and the aussies until just before sunset when everyone decided to call it a day.

the following afternoon at the beach was my last and our aussie friends had gotten wind of this. starting from about 4pm onwards, after we, along with the norweigans, made plans to meet for dinner, paul the aussie began telling everyone we met about my 'going away party'. this struck me as funny on many levels. for one, i barely knew paul and here he was getting ready for a throwdown to honor my departure. additionally, he was telling completely random people about this party, yet they seemed very intrigued. it doesnt take much to get a bunch of people on holiday together to drink.

after a quick dinner, we moved out party back over to our favorite beach bar, cholo's. by now, paul was promoting this new drinking event to nearly everyone. he would go around saying, 'well this bloke cam and oi are ear fer another fo' dayz, but this guy, grahhnt, its ez last noit....so lets ave a bia!' this never stopped, and it apparently never got old. he recruited all sorts of people for our little fiesta by the fire on the beach.

i soon started to realize i was in trouble. i had run out of cash some time ago, but upon realizing this paul simply took it upon himself to buy every single one of my drinks, as well as those for our new friends. i tried to protest, but the harder i fought, the more red bull and vodkas he thrust at me.

around 3am i tried to escape with the norweigans (they roomed next door), only to be caught by paul and cam who were returning from their room. by their new upbeat attitude and mile wide smiles, i had guessed they had found some sort of over the counter stimulant to help them press on through the night. cam pulled me aside and informed me that they had pseudophedrine tablets, and offered me some.

now i dont much about the whole speed business, but i do know that what they had was the active ingredient in meth, and being from where i am in texas, meth is big business. i respectfully declined, but thanked them for their generous offer. they then drug me back to the bar and said that if i wouldnt take the pills, then i needed another red bull.

somewhere around 530am i managed to escape. i thought id take a quick nap before catching my 6am cab. this of course did not happen. from what the neighbors told me, the cabbie tried persistently to get into my room and wake me, as did my roomate ashish. they say that i woke up at one point, began to pack, and the slipped back off to sleep. oh well.

this is when my miserable ride back to stone town began. i couldnt get in touch with any of the airlines to change tickets so i had to go down in person to the offices, about 1.5hrs away. the rest is history. i made it back, barely, and the changing of flights actually saved me $30.

on the way out of dar i met yet another foreign girl in the airport. she was russian, returning from travelling with her dad and friends around tanzania. now between her and the norweigan girls, ive started to realize something; american girls are for suckers, or australians.

i dont know what it is, but ive found foreign girls, and foreign people for that matter, much more fascinating lately. it may have something to do with the fact that they find what i do very interesting as well, which just makes for good conversation and probably a false sense of confidence. i think this novelty will probably wear off after i return to the states and realize that american girls are once again the best. but as for now, i think i need to go to russia...or scandinavia. both?