Creatures and critters

Part 1: Our finned friends
Swimming with Zanzibarian dolphins was a rather fascinating experience. In the mind's eye of most people there are images of yourself holding on to your finned friends whilst they drag you along through crystal clear waters. Whilst this is not impossible (Cancun Mexico is known for close up petting encounters), the majority of African wildlife is still just that - wild. Which, though disappointing to some, I find reassuring in some strange way. Petting tame cheetahs and holding monkeys are no doubt great experiences, but they also remind me of how much mankind has intruded on our neighbours in the wild. And though there are often good intentions behind these intrusions, more often people are merely crossing boundaries for reasons of personal or financial gain.

We left Kendwa early this morning for the 1.5 hour drive to Kizimkazi on the Southern coast of the island. Whilst our suave guide Sidé entertained us with a few facts and anecdotes from the island, Engela and I also got acquainted and swapped travel stories with our fellow-South Africans - newlyweds Franci and Regs - a beautiful, kind and adventurous pair and quite the perfect match. The day was slightly challenging for the four of us who each had our respective roasted red limbs as a result of assuming the previous day's cloud cover = lower burning potential. My previously mentioned tad of a tan has since turned into a very peculiar-looking lobster-pink discolouration stretching only to the middle of my upper legs. This means I look absolutely ridiculous, sporting what resembles a pair of white shorts underneath my swimsuit but which of course, is merely my naturally pasty pale upper legs. Regs burnt the whole of his upper body, Franci's bum hurts and Engela looks like a red version of her former self, burnt to a crisp pretty much all over.

Sidé, who doesn't like water because "it has no branches", left us in the capable hands of our new captain at Kizimkazi. We were given snorkeling gear and told to follow the captain across a massive expanse of marsh-like beach which revealed itself with the low tide. A slightly painful beginning due to sharp rocks and the lack of shoes, complicated by the dozens of spiky sea urchins scattered along the way. I would be lying if I said that this introduction did not have me doubting for a few moments the actual capability of our new captain's proverbial hands. But we did eventually make it to deeper waters where we joined a few other foreigners on our little dolphin-seeking sea vessel in which we headed out to even deeper deeper waters where we again joined several other similar vessels with more foreigners.

The vast marsh-like Kizimkazi beach at low tide

Now I must be honest. This whole experience put a smile on my face due to the sheer silliness of the dolphin spotting operation. Us wannabe dolphineers (aka les tourists) sit on the edges of our seats (literally), ready with goggles, snorkels and general diving paraphernalia whilst the respective captains of the dolphin-seeking sea vessels keep their trained eyes out for our finned friends. When our friends are spotted by a captain, there is a lot of shouting and all the other dolphin-seeking sea vessels speed in the direction of the sighting. When your own captain spot the dolphins close to your own dolphin-seeking sea vessel they yell "jump jump" and the next thing you know a dozen snorkeled dolphineers plunge into the ocean and swim like crazy flippered maniacs in the direction of the captain's pointing finger. If a dolphineer is lucky and/ or fast enough they get to spot the dolphins swimming past them under the water. I couldn't help but think what a fun game this must be for our little finned friends who kept sending boats in a certain direction only to turn around and swim in the opposite direction as soon as we finally caught up with them.

Regs and Franci

(Might I interrupt myself at this point to say...as I am writing this in my notebook, there is an unbelievably attractive diving instructor at the next table. Damn! I wonder if he'll notice if I take a photo...Ladies and gay gentlemen, you'll thank me later.)

Anyway, where was I. Oh yes, I actually managed to spot a dolphin relatively close up under the water. As Captain Shakespeare would say: Très cool!
However, that being said, though it was nothing short of amazing to see dolphins in the open sea, I am undecided about my opinion of the experience as a whole. I wasn't disappointed in the least, but also I was not as inspired with awe as many others.

What did however leave a significant and lasting impression on me, was the snorkeling we did after our dolphin experience. Despite being a newbie to the snorkeling scene, I was completely hooked mere minutes after hitting the water! How awesome seeing tropical fish less than an arm's length away! Like being allowed to peek through the keyhole of some magical parallel universe. It was an experience of which the intensity (for me) has only been rivalled by darkroom photo developing and being in love. Okay, a strange comparison perhaps and you're probably commiserating my sad little life but hear me out. There might somehow be method to my madness. Regardless of what these significant moments might be to each individual, they are rare. The moments you experience something with such intensity and joy that you know you were meant to do this, be this, see this, feel this. That it somehow defines or emphasizes a part of you which, up to that point, had gone unnoticed. Small part, big part - it doesn't matter. The magnitude of the influence these experiences are meant to have on your life as a whole is irrelevant. What makes it significant is that these moments - for however long they last - make you fully aware of the beauty and joy of nature/ art/ life/ love.
It takes your breath away, really (slightly problematic when snorkeling though). And it leaves you with a goofy smile and a childlike excitement that lingers long after the moment has passed.

No actual dolphins but the fascinating road to Kizimkazi plus many many boats can be seen here.

Part 2: Monkey business

When asking Sidé what happens if someone is bitten by one of the pythons or mambas found in Jozani forest, he merely flashed his killer smile and crossed his fingers. And from what we've seen of the island and its scant public facilities, we were pretty sure he wasn't kidding. So it was with slight hesitation that we headed into the forest in search of Red Colobus monkeys, praying to the heavens that we wouldn't find any other creatures.

The monkeys are beyond cute! Not tame enough to touch (though there will always be at least one idiot who tries) but one can get relatively close to them. They didn't seem at all fazed by the flashing cameras, going about their monkey business and paying no heed to the gawking humanoids. Red Colobus monkeys have incredibly long tails - I wouldn't mind taking one of those little guys home. The monkey of course, not the tail. Ew.

The trip also took us through a mangrove forest where Sidé showed us the different kinds of trees with their endless tangle of roots. Fascinating actually...despite it sounding really boring. What fascinated me most about this excursion though, was not the beauty of nature, but the absurdity of mankind. Or to be exact, the twenty tourists who sat down halfway along the path and lit up their cigarettes. What better way to spoil a tranquil moment in a tropical forest than creating a ginormous Benson & Hedges smoke cloud in the middle of it!

And in case you wondered - no, since the place is so wet and humid, there is no real fire hazard and smoking is thus allowed. It was also the first thing I asked after rolling my eyes in annoyance. Somehow it reminded me of sir Ralph Waldo Emerson's prediction that "the end of the human race will be that it will eventually die of civilization".