Photos From Tumbe

This past week we travelled to the Island of Pemba for a three day homestay in the village of Tumbe. To get to Pemba we travelled by boat. Sadly the boat we were supposed to take, a two hour speed boat, was out of service due to a strike. Instead we were forced to take a ferry that took from 7 pm until 6am to cross the same distance of Ocean. It was an epic journey, as we boarded the boat I felt as though I was a refugee leaving my homeland to seek refuge somewhere else. There must have been 2,000 people on this ferry, a number far exceeding its normal capacity. In our first class cabin, which consisted of chairs and not much else, the floors were covered with mothers and their children sleeping in any space they could find. The concept of a fire hazard did not exist. Half way through my journey I had to use the bathroom, as I tip- toed between people sleeping on the floor I felt as though I was walking through a feild of land mines. I was so scared I was going to step on some small child and squash them. After many hours we finally arrived in the port of Pemba. A van was waiting to take us to the small rural village on the North side of the Island. When we arrived in Tumbe I could not believe my eyes. As the first white people to ever village this village, everyone came out to greet us. Children gazed up at us with huge eyes watching our every move. Our names were called off and our natives came up to claim us. My native was the headmaster of the secondary school. From the place where we were greeted my host father and I headed back to his house on a small mo-ped. As we drove down the main road people stood on either side waving and shouting KARIBU TUMBE (welcome to Tumbe). This hospitality did not stop the entire time I was in Tumbe. From the second I arrived I was brought from house to house to see everyone, I swear I met every person in the village. Because there were only 23 of us to live with families, we had to visit everyones house to make it up to the families who didn't get to host. One of my favorite parts of my visit was walking along the beach helping women plant seaweed called Mauni, a major export for the community. Most men fish and most women in the community plant Mauni and rice. Due to this I ate more rice and fish than i ever have in my whole life. In Tumbe people eat with their hands, more specifically their right hand. The left hand is used to wipe ones behind, and the right hand is used for everything else. At first it was quite difficult remembering this as well as using my hand at all! By the end of the trip I had it down as much as I possibly could.

Before I knew it the homestay was over, yet it never really felt real at all. The whole time i was there i felt like i was in some movie. This trip/homestay was one of the most interesting and educational aspects of our trip thus far. In fact it was the most educational homestay I have ever done thus far in my life. I lived with an incredibly rural family, one that washes dishes with sand, catches and harvests all their food, doesn't have electricity, and sleeps on a straw mat on the floor. The inhabitants of Tumbe have lived there their whole lives and many of them have never even ventured off the Island of Pemba itself. As the first white people they have come into contact with we were given the unique experience of breaking down their stereotypes of white people. It truly was an amazing experience I wish lasted longer!

The Ferry
My host brother in Tumbe, two friends, myself and my host father.
View of the beach from the village we stayed in.
On the ruins of a mosque right outside the village.