When is Home a Home

I don't know exactly when it happened and I am not sure why it happened but as we traveled around the world this last break and we were asked where we lived, we responded with Harbin and not Penticton as we usually did. They say "home is where your heart is" and ours is certainly still in Penticton. But it took a e-mail from a friend last week to remind us that we are facing our last few months in Harbin and we realized that we will be leaving a bit of our heart here when we leave and that this has been our home not just a stop in our relentless drive to see the world.

The memory card that we were using for our camera had a melt down and at this point it looks like we lost all of our pictures that we have taken since we returned to Harbin. Thankfully we have been able to tap into those of our extended family and can share them with you. A picture is worth a thousand words especially with my commentary. It has been almost 10 weeks since we returned to Harbin and we quickly picked up where we left of. First up was the Persian New Year. A fabulous evening at Solmaz and Abbas's.

Before we knew it, St. Patricks day was upon us. It isn't easy being green. As I am 1/4 Irish it just seemed like the right thing to do. Can you pick out the other person in the picture who lays claim to Irish descent. Nonie cooked up an extravaganza of green baked products for the event. We played Toss the Coin into the Pot of Gold and had a lively game of Pass the Irish Potato. We even had a Russian leprechaun show up for the festivities. The Qingmin Festival or "Tomb Sweeping Festival" closely followed St. Paddy's Day. It is a time to honor and remember our ancestors. The Chinese burn paper offerings so that there ancestors can have better lives in the hereafter. With the help of Janie, Nonie and I were able send an offering to all our ancestors. See my blog of March 2009 for more on the Qingmin Festival.

This weekend is Easter Weekend. Nonie has some time on her hands this semester. She is teaching six classes a week of first year students. She only see each class once in the semester so her preparations time is almost zero along with zero administration time. Her classes will end around the middle of May and at this point in time, she has no other work scheduled. With all this spare time, she decided to create an Easter that HIT would not forget. She enlisted an multinational task force to create and paint 100 paper mache Easter eggs that she planned to hang in the trees located in the courtyard in front of our dorm. The task force comprised 3 Iranians, 2 Iraqis, 6 Chinese, 2 Russians, 3 Americans, 1 Japanese and 1 Phillipino. Did I mention they were all women, no men allowed. Needless to say, I either locked myself in the bedroom or one night I met up with Abbas to play some some pool. Too many women in one place always makes me very nervous. On Good Friday, we let the men in on the secret and everyone got together to hand the eggs. Sadly, the weather did not cooperate and rain forced us to hang them in the lobby our dormitory. Nonie once again cooked up a storm and everyone came back to our apartment for drinks, cookies and cake. We enjoyed hearing and singing songs from our native countries. Nonie, Armin and I sang Frere Jaques with much gusto. It was surprising how many of our other guests knew the lyrics.

Spicy Hot

At some point in the mid 20th Century, Zanzibar and Tangyanika (sp) joined countries to become Tanzania. Zanzibar was actually a group of islands with the islands of Zanzibar and Pemba making up the majority of the total land mass. Up till the late 19th Century, the city of Zanzibar was the centre for the world's spice trade as well as the main market for the slave trade serving the Middle East and Asia. Till the the early part of the 20th Century, it was the capital of the Omani Empire that stretched across the entire Middle East.

Since the breakup of the Omani Empire, Zanzibar has fallen on hard times and has been remaking itself into a destination for tourists, mostly from Europe. Actually, if you think about that, it is not a far cry from it roots as the centre for the Middle Eastern slave trade. Just replace the Africans with the Europeans. Slave trade / Tourist trade. You be the judge.

Leaving the Serengeti with temperatures in the mid 30's to Zanzibar where the temperatures were in the mid 30's but with a Humidex of around 90% was a definite shock to the senses. As they say, it's not the heat it's the humidity. No airconditioning to be found at the Zanzibar International Airport. Thankfully we were coming in from Dar es salam and were able to avoid the long lines of tourists waiting to purchase their visas and clear customs. Moving out of the airport quickly and into the much appreciated air conditioned car that was awaiting our arrival. This trip has been a guided one from start to finish. Not our normal mode of travel but starting to see the benefits.

An hour later found us once again, safely behind guarded walls drinking our first of many fruity drinks. The plan was to spend the next five days laying on the beach, reading the entire Harry Potter series and drinking every fruity drink on the extensive menu of fruity drinks all while sucking up as much heat as possible before our return to the arctic temperatures of Harbin. Mission accomplished. The resort was typical of every all-inclusive resort that we have visited. This one catered to Italians. The buffet was a fusion of African and Italian cuisine sauteed and sauced into some interesting and not so interesting dishes. We quickly learned which ones to avoid. Safely behind walls, did not allow us to get a real feel for the Zanzibarian way of life. Leaving the resort was not recommended as stated by a large sign on the beach warning us not to use the beach after sundown. The resort was located in a very remote area with a limited number of organized excursions. We did take the the highly recommended "Spice Tour" which involved wondering around a couple of acres that were sparsely planted with various spices that had once made Zanzibar famous along with some spices never grown on Zanzibar. We tipped big and bought several overpriced souvenirs and hopefully made the day for the folks who tended the gardens, grounds, acted as tour guides and just generally hung around adding some local colour.

To ease us back in to some sense of reality, we booked a hotel for two days in Stone City, the historic heart of Zanzibar City. Hopefully this would be an opportunity to see the Zanzibarians in their natural environment. No Land Cruisers for protection here, just our cunning and fleet feet. We did hire a guide to give a short orientation tour of the City.

As you can see from the pictures, Stone City has all the necessary ammenities to keep the Omani Sultans happy, but since they were sent packing, things have gone a little down hill. Happily, it did not take a lot of imagination to see the beauty that first attracted the Sultans to Zanzibar.

It reminded me of Cuba in some ways but with out the Communism. Unlike the Cubans who seemed to enjoy life, the Zanzibarians seemed a little defeated by life. Until recently, they did not have a strong central government and what they had was rampant with corruption and economic mismangement. Elections held a few months ago has seen a change in the governing party and they have a faint ray of hope that change is on the way. Time will tell.

Another childhood dream smashed. On the last night of our resort stay, they advertised a traditional African dance show. But once again, the only bare chests I saw were on the men. Damn those missionaries. A little excitement on our outbound flight back to China. An explosion in a military base located adjacent to the internation airport in Dar es salam caused them to close the airport. When we arrived at the airport in Zanzibar we were told that a bomb had gone off at the airport in Dar and that it was closed till further notice. Whoa! We had watched both BBC and CNN that morning and no mention was made of this event. Given what was happening around the Middle East and North Africa, we though the worse. We were given no information but I smoozed the guy in the Duty Free shop. He had a radio and was able to give me the real story on what was happening. The explosion was an accident but it was in an ammunition bunker and exploding ordinace went on for hours as the fire department could not get close enough to fight the fire. It seems that a same incident had occured about 12 months before. No lesson learned, I guess. The airport eventually opened and we made our flight for Doha and onward to Beijing. Harbin is looking really good.

Call Me Bwanna

It's good to be the King but if you can't be the King then being Bwanna is not half bad.

No four stars out on the Serengeti. We had to tough it out in tents. Nonie is seen here waiting patiently for her afternoon tea.

Our tent was small and lacked even the simplest necessities such as a large screen tv. Don't get me started on the bush toilet which was located at the back of our tent. The lack of a tv was more than made up for by the low growling of the lions that could be heard outside our tent late at night. Those canvas walls became very thin in our minds and the whistle they provided for our protection only added to the discomfort.

A Serengeti, instantaneous hot water supply system. Step 1- Warm water up on a campfire. Step 2- Carry water to tent. Step 3- Pour water into large bucket and hoist up into a tree. Step 4- Turn on shower and get wet. Step 5- Turn off shower and lather up. Step 6- Repeat step 4.

  No stewardesses, in-flight meals or entertainment system and they told us to have a nice flight. Dave our pilot from Quebec with a brother in Kelowna looked to be all of 18. I swear he doesn't shave yet. It was with some small regrets that we said good bye to George and moved on to our next adventure. The island of Zanzibar, the centre of the slave trade and the spice capital for the Eastern world. Perhaps there may still be a chance to see some bare breasts.