Africa Snapshots: Golden Hour in Zanzibar

The scorching, wet heat finally gave the cool sea air permission to waft ashore. The sea breeze crossed over the sand and spilled through the alleys of Stone Town, whispering “Work is done, come down to play!” The setting sun tag teamed in. Its rusty orange glow sent a warm, beaconing light ricocheting across the stone walls, whispering, “You’ve worked hard enough, come down to play!”

The once quiet waterfront fell into a beautiful chaos.

Kids disrupted the still water with gleeful squeals, jumping around and throwing sand. One boy had a wise idea to log roll down the beach into the water. It didn’t take long for the trend to catch on. Most were in t-shirts and shorts. I mention that, because I suspect you were wondering. Zanzibar is 99% Muslim, after all. There was one little girl, maybe 3, who couldn’t quite keep up. She ran a few paces behind her friends with outstretched arms and an expression of pure jubilance that read, “this is the best day of my life!!!!!”

Slightly older kids ran along the waterline and catapulted themselves into a belly slide skidding across the sand. Others flew down the beach to front flip into the water. The log rollers, belly sliders, and front flippers never collided. I’m not sure how.

Their mothers sitting nearby in their hijabs laughed in delight. No concern over anyone getting hurt. No micromanaging the fun. No phones out to live the moment through a lens.

Groups of teens were tactfully kicking around soccer balls in a fashion that would have US college recruiters lining up. Families weaved their way through somehow avoiding the flying balls, sitting bodies, and rambunctious kids.

Then there was Jeremy and me. Sitting on the sand, soaking up the scenes. It was truly golden hour in Zanzibar, in more ways than one.

A pod of kids plopped themselves next to us. “May we speak with you as part of our English language course?”  We obliged.

There were 3 boys and 1 girl. They asked us things like, “Where are you from?” “What do you do?” “Where do you live?” “Do you like Zanzibar?” They couldn’t quite grasp the idea that we lived on the boat. The girl was shocked I didn’t have kids. She was even more shocked when I showed her a picture of a koala, my answer to the “What is your favorite animal?” question.

45 minutes later we said goodbye. They asked us for tips on their English, then asked for some photos.

We continued down the beach, and came across a spectacle of flipping. Men and boys sprinted down the sand and sprung off a tire to catapult themselves into different types of flips. An excited crowd cheered them on, oohing and aahing over the amazing aerial feats.

I wanted to capture the moment and put it in a bottle– dozens of people hurling their bodies through the air with a burning, setting sun in the back silhouetting kids in the ocean, soccer balls flying, lounging figures, and bopping dhow boats.

My eyes greedily lapped up every second.

One thought kept returning.“This is what living looks like.”