Tanzania

Coming into the Swahili coast, the first thing you notice is the change in air. The ocean humidity, which by midday would have both David and I wringing enough sweat out of our handkerchiefs to plant an orchid in the desert, was at 10 p.m. just as soft as a velvet blanket caressing your skin. We drove through the still-lit industrial section of Mombasa, factories lining water that looked in the dark like black frosted glass.

The calm, frozen cityscape came to life the next day with all the vigour of a typical tourist town, but marked by that confluence of cultures that I came to recognize as characteristic of the Swahili coast. Indian restaurants competing with Chinese joints; the latest Bollywood tunes blasting alongside African pop; niqab'ed women sharing the streets with half-naked tourists. To what extent the mix represents a blend or a clash I leave to sociologists and others more fit to analyze, but I would safely admit I have my own suspicions about certain areas - namely Zanzibar Island off the coast of Tanzania. Though the predominantly Muslim (they claim 96%) island's fortunes are heavily tied to the industry of attracting and pleasing tourists, the acceptance of local authority does not extend much beyond this economic aspect. I will feel no surprise if something very big goes down on Zanzibar in the next ten years.

The rest of the coast, while exhibiting less startling discrepancies, is nonetheless definitively cosmopolitan. For David, this worldly "outward-looking" quality sets the Swahili coast apart from other African cultures, which sometimes seem interested in just one type of food, just one genre of music, just one lifestyle.

For me, the cultural blend is exemplified by the northern coast city of Tanga, where I donned a shirt and shorts before tentatively wading into the Indian Ocean waters along the male-dominated beach. My fears of immodesty were incontrovertibly proven invalid within the hour, however, with the arrival of two young local women old enough to know exactly what they were doing who chose to do their flirting, splashing and general co-ed water cavorting wearing much less than I. (One of them was topless.) The beach experience was followed with the best
lassi I have ever tasted, and we finished off the night outside the hotel room, watching lighted fishing boats floating on the dark waters.

It's a strange mix, but one that is wholeheartedly enjoyable. (And not because of the topless beach. But heterosexual males are of course free to disagree..)