Bombs Away

There are so many wonderful events and experiences that I still have not written about that it's irking that I must write something about bombs.  However, yesterday afternoon, there were two bomb blasts at popular tourist sites in Stone Town, which is the cultural heart of Zanzibar City.  John and I took a daladala into town around 3:30 p.m. but were prevented from walking down the street we wanted to by yellow crime scene tape stretched across its entrance.  We thought perhaps there had been a serious car-pedestrian accident or maybe even an attempted robbery.  No one told us what had really happened.  So, we took a detour and thought nothing more of it until we returned to the house and received text messages from Zanzibarian friends asking if we were okay.

I quickly checked for local news and found that around 2:30, a bomb had gone off at the entrance of the Anglican cathedral and another at Mercury's, a famous bar for tourists who remember Freddy Mercury.  Neither bomb was very large and no one seems to have been injured--except perhaps one person at Mercury's, and that hasn't been verified. Whoever is behind these bombings doesn't seem sophisticated enough in technique to be part of any larger group of dissidents, and the government and local police will handle this with great zeal.  Tourism is the economic life blood of Zanzibar, and only a very few zealots would do anything to harm that source of jobs and income.

The Anglican cathedral, which is built on the site of the old slave market.

The circle of friendship we form after services for the benediction

Freddy Mercury's house

As I have noted in other posts, the Tanzanians as a whole are respectful, and very open and honest.  Even though they may be offended by the careless and often sluttish way many western tourists dress, they tolerate the behavior and remain very polite. There is no other reminder of how sexualized our western female dress code has become as graphic as seeing white tourists in short shorts and tank tops next to the elegantly robed Muslim women.  We may think that wearing a bouiboui is repressive--and in this heat I think it must be--but the women here dress with a style and elegance that puts us to shame. I wish that it weren't rude to take photos of the people I see on the streets, as I would love to have a collection of the parade of beauty I see each day.

Two female members of SUZA's faculty

Young women at Forodhani Park

At the construction site of the monument to the revolution

Our female students ready to enter a mosque

But, back to the bombings and a bit of history.  If you are as old as I am, you may remember a country called Tanganyika.  This is usually referred to as "the mainland" now since Zanzibar joined the United Republic of Tanzania after a bloody revolution in 1964.  However, in this union, Zanzibar still remains largely autonomous with its own parliament, president, and laws.  And, unlike the mainland, Zanzibar is about 99% Muslim with its own unique culture.  However, there are those who resent that Christians from the mainland have moved onto Zanzibar and who would like to secede from the union (This reminds me of some of the blustery conservatives in Texas), and, even though only a minority supports such an idea, this issue is currently being debated in the Zanzibar parliament.  So, most likely the bombings were a political statement more than an anti-westerner one: the Cathedral is a symbol of Christian intrusion, and the owner of Mercury's has been very outspoken against the idea of secession.  Realistically, the splinter group arguing for secession is fighting a losing battle, as this island is economically tied to the mainland in many ways that cannot practically be broken.  For example, all the electrical power comes from the mainland via underwater cable, and many families rely on mainland employment to support their families on the island. This is why Hamad is only at home on the weekends.

So, I am not in the least bit fearful being out and about as usual.  This morning, the people on the daladalas were as polite and helpful as always. The taxi driver I had for a jaunt to get my hair cut was very talkative and made a point of telling me that everyone loves wagaini (outsiders).  And, Fadhila is just plain pissed that anyone would do such a stupid thing.  And, you know when I put it all into a larger perspective, I have to recognize that I have a much greater chance of being shot and killed by the Spokane police than I do of being injured or killed by a bomber here on Zanzibar. This is not a crazy, violence prone society with a high number of gun owners and stand-your-ground laws.