48 hours ago I was aiming my camera through the window of the airplane, snapping photos of the emerald green water that surrounds Zanzabar while on approach for a landing to pick up a few passengers. I was lamenting the fact that I had not scheduled time to stay on this island of paradise that lies just off the coast of Tanzania, Africa. My climbing buddy (and newly adopted daughter☺️) Katherine was wise indeed, having scheduled time in advance to enjoy this mysterious island with its musical name. Kat was somewhere down below and I was more than a bit envious.
One hour later while sitting on the runway in seat 8F we got word of a mechanical failure and promises of updates to come. During the five hours that followed, things got progressively nasty. Passengers were getting angry and the young pilot was running out of patience. Finally they took everyone off the plane and into the Qatar waiting area in the terminal. Things were not much better there and the crisis control employee for Qatar was clearly in over his head. The angry mob surrounding him was closing in.
I have learned in recent years that “the confused old man” approach works much better than the “here is what your fixing to do for me” approach from my younger days. As such, I leaned in close to the young man and said softly, I am sick, I am fixing to start throwing up which will compound your job dramatically, get me out of here. He summonsed a kind female Qatar employee who expedited me through customs and out to a waiting taxi. I was free at last to explore the magical island of Zanzibar.
Zanzibar’s beauty is only matched by the hearts of its people. I filled my little moleskin notebook with stories of people that I now carry close to my heart. The kindness’s that Kat and I experienced will not be soon forgotten.
These photographs help tell the story of 48 hours in Zanzibar.