Funkbelly

Tuesday, May 11
Two days after returning from a quick trip to Vancouver, Canada, Erik and I attended our last baby prep class (breastfeeding) on Tuesday evening. The class was complete around 9 PM and I hit the restroom for my obligatory potty break before we headed home. I realized while waddling out of the bathroom that I was “still peeing.”

With a rush of panic coming over me I muttered to Erik then bolted (waddled) back to the bathroom to investigate…and sure enough my water had broken! It was 9:05 and I waddled back out of the bathroom and declare to Erik that my water had broken. We stared at each other in shock… OK, what do we do?! OH wait. We’re at the hospital and we were told to “labor at home” – let’s walk around the corner to the birthing center and ask for a pad so we can make it home.

We walked the 100 feet around the corner to the birthing center and the next few minutes went a little like this:

• Joanne: Hi. We were just at the breastfeeding class and my water just broke. Can I get a pad so we can make it home?
• Nurse(s): (replies with caution) Um…where are you delivering?
• Joanne: Here
• Nurse(s): (still cautiously proceeding) How far along are you?
• Joanne: Almost 38 weeks
• Nurse(s): Who is your Dr.?
• Joanne: Dr Emanuel
• Nurse(s): Um…yeah, you’re not going home. We need to admit you.
• Joanne: But, we were told to labor at home…
• Nurse(s): Not when your water breaks, right this way please…

Despite no Braxton-Hicks contractions or other typical signs of early labor, here we were checked into the hospital and getting ready to have a baby! Erik rushed home to collect our hospital things and our laptops so we could frantically close up our work items before the real labor started!

Wednesday, May 12
Labor was slow and around 4 am the nurse was instructed to hook me up to Petosin. Erik and I felt it was a little early so we asked for 2 hours of time to let us help get things going. So, for the next 2 hours we walked and walked and walked around the birthing center hoping to move things along. At 6 am we were no further ahead and sure enough I was hooked up to the drip.

At around 9 am the contractions started to get moving and by noon I was using pain coping strategies to get through each one. Unfortunately the labor still wasn’t progressing. By mid-afternoon I was starting to experience back labor and having a lot trouble staying awake. If I were to be able to make it through the “big show” I would need to get some sleep and the words “epidural” started to enter the conversation. By 5 pm I was experiencing pretty painful back labor and was just dilated enough to get an epidural – finally.

By 7 pm, the epidural was in and I was informed that I was no longer permitted to eat food. (What!? No more food?! And they know this information and don’t warn you beforehand? Sigh. My last meal was left over lunch consumed at 4pm, it will have to hold me over for the next 24 hours I guess.) On the plus side, I experienced some relief until we realized that there was a “window” on my left side, meaning my left side was not numb! The anesthesiologist came around and did a little trick to get the epidural to sit more balanced and it worked a little better but this was not a perfect epidural I would later find out. Throughout the night my back pain worsened and the epidural was not much help. The nurse brought in heat pad after heat pad and only one position was comfortable for me. I ended up getting 3 hrs of sleep after the anesthesiologist put a “cocktail” in my IV at around 1 am.

Thursday, May 13
Around 4 am the following morning, I was checked and low and behold I was 9 centimeters dilated! The nurse says: This is great news! You’ll be pushing before you know it! She sits the bed up in a position “guaranteed” to get me to the home stretch fast. Unfortunately, that pesky back labor and less than adequate epidural had a different plan for me. I was unable to stay in the “guaranteed” position for more than a few minutes due to severe throbbing pain in my low back and ended up in, what turned out to be, a more comfortable but less than ideal position.

By 7 am with no further progress, my team surrounded the hospital bed and said some dreaded words: “We need to redo your epidural.” “Oh God no,” is all I could think. After over 30 hours of labor, my pain coping skills had worn thin. I was emotionally hanging on by a thread and ready to throw in the towel (although I knew crying like a baby wouldn’t help things at all). Considering this, there was not a chance in hell I was able to politely sit at the edge of the hospital bed, bend over and let my anesthesiologist redo my epidural. But after a quick glance around the folks at my bedside, I knew by the looks on their faces that I really didn’t have a choice. The next few minutes went a little like this:

• Joanne: Well, is there anything you can put in my IV? Anything to get me through this?
• Nurse Chelsea: Well, you never used your Phentenol (with a big smile)
• Joanne: Let’s do it (almost with a smile)

Within minutes the magic is placed in my IV and I am suddenly, I kid you not, wasted. It was like college all over again, except there was no bar and I was about to have a baby. All pain and caring was completely gone and we were off to redo my epidural! (Wee! This will be easy!) The only difficult thing at this point was Erik trying to hold me in position and me slurring orders at him. What came next was a shock to everyone – third degree burns on my back from the heat pad that night! But first things first.
First the epidural, then we treat the new issue – skin burns. Sigh. (Is this karmic revenge for considering a lower back tattoo in college? Either way, I now have one, a visual reminder of the brutal back pain I endured.)

After the shenanigans of the burns and new epidural were over, we were off to the races, in less than 1 hour I was fully dilated and ready to push. (Wee – we’re finally going to meet our little buddy. Is it a boy or girl? We are about to find out.) We are told the baby is so low that it’ll be a fast delivery – woo hoo! We earned it right? Wrong. My pregnancy was too easy for the delivery to go smoothly even for a minute.

We (I) started pushing at 9:30 am and I gave them strong, long pushes—the kind you expect from an Olympic athlete (or so they made me believe). I felt so strong and invincible! So we push, and we push. We push on the left side, on the right, with the squat bar, without the squat bar and finally in the third hour, we pushed on all fours hoping to jar this kid loose and send “him” down the birth canal. (Oh yes, I could feel my legs enough to actually use them by the end.) But even after 3.5 hours where my last push was as strong as my first push (according to a very impressed husband), the looks between nurse and Dr revealed the fate to come—it’s time to throw in the towel and get this kid out via C-section. After 40 hours of labor, no food, the onset of uncontrollable shaking, and an offer to keep pushing if I wanted to, we made the call and waited for next steps.

Getting to the OR was quick and painless. I got control over my body shakes, Erik got suited up in scrubs and we rolled in within 20 minutes. The next 40 or so minutes were more annoying than anything and here are a few reasons why:

1. The uncontrollable body shakes returned
2. The automatic blood pressure cuff initiated every 5 minutes and squeezed tighter and tighter on my tense and shaking arm (apparently it keeps squeezing if your arm is tense, not helpful)
3. My exhaustion had kicked into high gear and the room started spinning (and trying to convince the doctors you are dying and that they need to put sugar in your IV is probably in their top 5 list of “Things I Hate About Awake Patients on the OR Table”)
4. The pressure of tugging and pulling as the doctor fished around for the baby. (I thought I was numb? Am I numb? Am I feeling this?)
5. The promise of placing the baby on your chest once he’s born and then taking him away, cleaning him up and swaddling him…THEN bringing him over (at which point now I’m so exhausted I could care less about the baby, in fact all I did care about was when I could have a popsicle!)

On the bright side, there were some positives woven between the annoying parts:

1. Erik was an awesome team player
2. Erik got to announce the gender – It’s a Boy!! 6lbs 9 oz, 18” long
3. We had a healthy baby with powerful lungs and a strong neck who was trying to latch on to anything and everything!
4. Once I was transferred back to the stretcher I threw up and suddenly I felt amazing, no more spinning or shaking – wee!

And then there were three. We made our way back to our room. August latched on no problem (thank goodness they have their instincts, ours are certainly lost along the way), a dad was born and dove right into fatherhood, and a new mom tried to put all her fears aside and focus on the new road ahead.

Unable to attend the Seattle International Beer Festival with August, we decided to throw our own beer festival on the deck. We’d done this once before a few years ago with Erik’s family we missed the big beer fest at St. Eddy’s park in Kirkland, and the weather looked agreeable for hanging out in the back yard.

This year, we invited a few friends and neighbors over for a family-friendly beer festival for what was later dubbed the the Funkbelly International Beer Festivus. The format was simple – just bring some beer to contribute to the tasting menu, then as you sample different brews, rate them on a scale of 1-5, then the results would be tallied. The goal was to have beer from all six continents with commercial brewing, which we inadvertently achieved with our seeder beers before anyone else showed up.

It was a fantastic afternoon, with perfect temperatures for relaxing under the market umbrellas while tasting beers from around the world as kids frolicked in the yard, making new friends and putting the new red playground ball through its paces. The evening eventually wound down to a handful of folks who had moved on from beer tasting to beer drinking while smoking cigars around the bonfire.

In all, nearly 50 different beers were available to sample, ranging from experimental to mundane (see below for the full list). The big winner for the afternoon, scoring 4.8 out of 5 points, was the 18 month reserve Samichlaus Helles from Brauerei Schloss Eggenberg in Austria. A close second was the Hitachino Nest XH Strong Ale from Japan’s Kuichi Brewing, rating 4.5 overall. Taking third with 4.3 points was the Polish Black Boss Porter from Browar Witnica.

Pulling up the rear were the Ethopian Meta Abo and Castel Export Lagers. Both failed to impress the crowd, scoring 1.3 and 1.8 points respectively.

Honorable mentions for creativity go to Delaware’s Dogfish Head for the Sah’tea Ale, brewed with chai tea and juniper berries, and Elliot Bay Brewing’s Tabasco Stout, which was a very polarizing brew of the afternoon, second only to the Belgian Duvel for widest range of scores.

We had such a good time hosting the party we just may have to bring it back next year. It was less expensive and less maddening than the beer festival at Seattle Center, and a fantastic opportunity to catch up with friends who have been neglected over the last year.

2010 Funkbelly International Beer Festivus Tasting List

• Armenia – Erebuni Premium Lager (Kotayk Brewery)
• Australia – Sheaf Stout (Carlton & United)
• Austria – Samiclaus Helles (Brauerei Schloss Eggenberg)
• Belgium – Cherish Kreik Lamic (Brouerji Van Steenberge), Duvel (Brouwerij Duvel Moortgat), Peche Lambic (Lindeman’s), Steenbrugge Wit (Brouwerij Palm)
• Brazil – South American Pale Ale (Eisenbahn)
• Canada – Maudite (Unibroue)
• China – Taiwan Lager (Taiwan Tobacco and Liquor Corporation), Tsingtao Lager (Tsingtao Brewery), Yanjing Lager (Beijing Yanjing Beer Group)
• England – Organic English Ale (St. Peter’s Brewery)
• Ethopia – Castel Export Lager (BGI), Hakim Stout (Harar Beer Factory), Meta Export Lager (Meta Abo)
• India – Kingfisher Premium Lager (United Breweries)
• Japan – Hitachino Nest Red Rice Ale (Kuichi Brewing), Hitachino Nest XH Strong Ale (Kuichi Brewing), Kirin Ichibahn Lager (Kirin Brewery Company), Orion Draft Lager (Orion Beer Company), Sapporo Premium Lager (Sapporo Breweries)
• Korea – Black Beer Stout (Hite Brewery Company), Hite Lager (Hite Brewery Company)
• New Zealand – Steinlager Lager (New Zealand Breweries LTD)
• Mexico – Negra Modelo (Grupo Modelo), Tecate (Cervecería Cuauhtémoc Moctezuma)
• Poland – Black Boss Porter (Browar Witnica), Kozlak Bock (Browar Amber), Lomza Petne Malt Liquor (Browar Lomza), Zwyiec Original (Zywiec Breweries)
• Russia – Baltika #2 Lager (Pivzavod Baltika), Baltika #6 Porter (Pivzavod Baltika), Baltika #9 Extra Lager (Pivzavod Baltika)
• Scotland – Traquair Jacobite Ale (Traquair House)
• Singapore – Tiger Beer Pale Lager (Singapore Brewery)
• Thailand – Beerlao Dark Lager (Lao Brewery)
• Tibet – Lhasa Export Lager (Tibet Lhasa Brewery)
• United States – Brown Ale (Elliot Bay Brewing), Dark Irish Death Stout (Iron Horse Brewery), Dead Guy Ale (Rogue Brewing), Mirror Pond Pale Ale (Deschutes Brewery), Olympia Lager (Pabst Brewing), Sah’tea Spiced Ale (Dogfish Head), Session Black Lager (Full Sail Brewing), Tabasco Stout (Elliot Bay Brewing), Traditional Dry Cider (Wescott Bay), Wit von Boorian (Elliot Bay Brewing)

It’s been a while since we last updated the site, but it doesn’t mean we haven’t been busy – about every 6 weeks we were onto a new adventure and few opportunities of a lifetime! And we even did it all with a bun in the oven…

About a month after the last update we travelled to Berlin for Joanne’s work and Erik took the opportunity to explore the German capital. Fortunately for us, the city was celebrating the 20th anniversary of the fall of the Berlin wall while we were there, culminating with a massive celebration, the Fest der Freiheit (Freedom Festival) in the city center. We arrived to the celebration early and had some of the best “seats” available to view the toppling of giant dominoes representing the fall of the wall and eastern bloc, and we were within spitting distance of dignitaries like Hillary Clinton, Mikhail Gorbachev, Angela Merkel, Lech Walesa, and Jon Bon Jovi. An opportunity of a lifetime!

After a week in Berlin, we rented a car and drove to Prague for the weekend, where we enjoyed some unseasonably warm fall weather and racked up three traffic tickets at the pace of one every twelve hours. We left Prague with a “been there, done that” kind of attitude and then drove the width of Germany over a single evening to conclude the trip with a couple of days in Amsterdam.

More pictures from Berlin, Prague and Amsterdam.

Pure exhaustion from the trip kept us around Seattle for Thanksgiving and we spent the day with a group of friends at This Old Punk House, where competitive cooking skills brought together a non-traditional, but 5 star, Thanksgiving meal.

The holidays were busy as usual, and this year we hosted Joanne’s family (one grandma, one grandpa, two adults, two kids and a partridge in a pear tree), then we spent a low-key New Year’s Eve at home fending off some kind of bug and recuperating from a house full of family.

After a largely unremarkable January, we ventured north for the Vancouver 2010 Winter Olympic games, spending 12 days with Joanne’s uncle Ward, aunt Teri, and cousin Cameron at their home on the North Shore. We lucked out in the first round of the ticket lottery a year earlier, scoring a ticket package that included the opening ceremony, a couple of hockey games, curling, snowboarding, and ice skating. We were very fortunate to experience this opportunity of a lifetime, particularly the awe-inspiring opening ceremony. Joanne was certainly proud to be a Canadian!

Pictures from the opening ceremony, games, and around Vancouver.

Another 6 weeks later, in March, we cashed in some of Erik’s frequent flier miles on some first class tickets to Hawaii and spent a long weekend relaxing on the North Shore of Oahu at Turtle Bay Resort, a few miles up the coast from Hale’iwa, the “Surf Capital of the World.” This was our “babymoon” – the last hurrah before our baby was born. Although, it was probably more of a hurrah for Erik who was able to sample various mai tais around the island.

Photos from Hale’iwa and Turtle Bay.

On April Fool’s Day, Erik started a new job as a Project Manager with a small but established software company just across the Ballard Bridge, a couple miles from home. While there will be some travel involved for future projects, it won’t be nearly as much as his previous job and it will be to places like Australia, New Zealand, Mexico, and Ireland.

Then about 6 weeks later, we went into labor 2 weeks early and the next big adventure was under way! Stay tuned for the full story…

At long last, nearly 8 months after completing the trip, here’s the big final wrap up! With 25 days of experiences to choose from, ranging from mountain peaks to massive nature preserves to tropical beaches, it’s hard to pin down any specific moments that typify the vacation. However, some of the general yet more noteworthy things include:

• With very few exceptions, nearly everyone we met wanted to talk about Obama and the economy. It was refreshing to travel internationally and not feel a bit embarassed by how far the U.S. had fallen in the eyes of the world. Everywhere we went, there were Obama posters and bumper stickers, and his name was spraypainted on the sides of buildings, curbs, water tanks, and other surfaces even in the most unlikely of places. Apart from Obama having roots in neighboring Kenya, everyone seemed genuinely hopeful that he can help restore the U.S. economy (which directly impacts their tourism economy) and improve foreign relations in areas that have suffered during his predecessor’s eight years in office.
• Tanzania is the only country either of us have been to where it is not uncommon to be penalized for using the local currency. Many shops and hotels prefer US currency to the local Tanzanian Shilling, and offer exchange rates or simply round in their favor when you use shillings. They prefer to deal in larger, newer bills and will make change in shillings unless you ask for US in return. It was really odd. Of course, there were exceptions to this, like when we wound up paying $75 for laundry service at the Kilimanjaro Lodge in Marangu because we didn’t have $50 in local currency on hand. Even at $50, it was highway robbery, but we couldn’t very well pack our sweaty Kili clothes all over the Serengeti, could we?
• There are two soft drinks we found that should be considered for production in North America: Krest Bitter Lemon, a tart, more natural-tasting version of Sprite that mixes well with gin, and Spar-Letts Stoney Tangawizi, a refreshing ginger beer with a potent, gingery flavor that makes most domestic ginger ales taste like soda water. Both are produced and distributed by Coca-Cola throughout eastern Africa and would make fine additions to their beverage portfolio on this continent, provided they stick with the natural ingredients and stay away from the high-fructose corn syrup.
• The Tanzanian people are by and large very warm and friendly. Even the papasi, as annoying and aggressive as they are, were typically polite and didn’t put on an overly offended act when we brushed them off. While driving through populated areas, children of all ages would wave as our bus or car went by, and hotel/restaurant staff were generally cheerful and willing to help in any way they could, from finding Ibuprofen for a sore foot to letting us use the shower in an unoccupied hotel room even though we were no longer paying guests.
• Tanzanian beer is all pretty much the same light-bodied lager. Of the ones we sampled, Safari seemed to the best of the bunch, with Kilimanjaro an acceptable and more widely available alternate choice. It’s a toss-up as to whether Tusker or Serengeti comes in last. They’re both pretty terrible. At any rate, it made coming home to the bold, hoppy ales of the Pacific Northwest that much better. It was like rediscovering good beer all over again.

While this certainly won’t be our last vacation to a relatively exotic destination, it was the first time either of us had been to a place where we had no language or cultural reference points to start from, and as such it will likely always be one one of our favorite holidays. Tanzania was probably one of the easiest places to begin exploring the massive African continent, in that it offers so much variety in a fairly compact region, and travel services are quite workable compared to other African destinations (so we’ve heard). This means you’ll wind up paying more for some things, but it’s worth it when you’re on a tight schedule and figuring things out as you go.

We highly recommend a Tanzanian holiday to anyone looking to sample a broad spectrum of central African culture and environment. We also recommend the services of Africa Travel Resource, the UK-based travel agency we used to assist in planning our itinerary. They take a very flexible and collaborative approach to travel planning and partner with socially and environmentally responsible tour operators.

We’d only been home a few weeks before we started asking “What’s next?” Apart from a couple of weeks in Europe next month while Joanne attends a conference in Berlin, there’s nothing specific on the radar, although Cambodia and Thailand have been coming to mind recently… Any suggestions?

We arrived in at our hotel in Stone Town in mid-afternoon by way of one of the Barclay’s that had previously thwarted our cash-obtaining efforts. After checking into our plush, air-conditioned accommodations in the heart of Zanzibar’s original settlement and only “modern” city, we immediately took advantage of the fresh water in the showers before setting out to explore the neighborhood.

Named for the limestone bricks used for construction of most of the city’s original buildings, Stone Town is a maze of narrow, unnamed alleys that wind their way past shops, houses, schools, and places of worship. The handful of named streets are not clearly marked, and while cars are not allowed in the core of the city, bicycles and motorcycles zip by and around blind corners, somehow managing to avoid colliding with pedestrians or other cyclists.

We set out with no agenda other than seeing our first proper dose of civilization since the fiasco of Arusha, and it wasn’t long before we were completely turned around. We had a map, we knew where our hotel was, and we had a rough idea of where we were, but without street names or visible landmarks we were just shy of lost for the better part of the afternoon.

Eventually, we stumbled upon the Hurummi Baths, an historic Persian bath house not terribly far from our hotel. After taking a tour of the dark, humid, building, we found our way back to the hotel with enough time before dinner to clean up and relax for a bit. Our hotel, 236 Hurumzi, is the restored palatial home of a powerful Swahili businessman, and is the second tallest building in Stone Town. It is comprised of two neighboring buildings connected by a series of hallways, open-air staircases, and secret stairwells tucked in the corners of the building.

For dinner that night, we ate at the Tower Top restaurant in the hotel, situated at the highest point of the building and featuring panoramic views of Stone Town and sunset over the harbor a few short blocks away. As we enjoyed a pre-dinner cocktail and appetizers, the Muslim call to prayer echoed across the city from the city’s many mosques while chimes rang out from the neighboring Hindu temple, adding significant ambiance to the already exotic setting. Between courses, we were entertained with traditional music and dance, and by the time we had finished dessert, we abandoned our initial plans to go out and see some live taarab music and returned to the room to pack our bags for the final time and try to get a good night’s sleep in preparation for the 35-hour trip home we’d embark on the next afternoon.

We awoke the next morning, had breakfast at the Tower Top, then checked out of our room with six hours to explore the city before heading to the airport. Our first stop was the Palace of Wonders, the former home of an Omani sultan and now a museum of pre-colonial maritime trade, Swahili culture, and early colonial activity on Zanzibar.

From there, we did a bit of shopping along touristy, expensive Kenyatta Road and it’s intersecting but polar opposite Gizenga Street, a narrow passageway lined with talkative vendors all selling essentially the same mass-produced trinkets, but also offering original art and handicrafts. You just had to run the gauntlet of junk to get to the good stuff, and this is where the Arusha experience came in handy.

After dealing with the papasi in Arusha, Stone Town felt like a breeze, especially with a new Swahili phrase in our arsenal, Hapana mgeni (hah-PAH-nah MGEN-ee), or “Not a customer/visitor.” This seemed to work well for brushing off even the most aggresive vendors and would-be city guides. Emboldened by our newfound stopping power, Joanne managed to talk a vendor down to less than half of the original asking price for a couple of items in one shop!

After acquiring the souveniers and art we wanted, we had a quick lunch at a waterfront restaurant called “Mercury” in honor of Queen frontman Freddie Mercury, who was born in Zanzibar, and then made our way back to the hotel, where we were able take a much-needed shower to clean up after sweating through the 90 degree heat and oppressive humidity.

We took a cab to the Zanzibar airport, checked in for another quick flight in a 14-seat Cessna to Dar es Salaam, and played cards until we were ready for takeoff. At Dar, we had several hours for more cards and our final chance to enjoy a Safari lager, and the incredibly tasty, gingery Stoney Tangawizi ginger beer. After the nine-hour flight from Dar back to Amsterdam, we had six hours to stretch our legs, get some breakfast, and catch up on a bit of email and news from home (including a round of layoffs at Erik’s company) before the final nine-hour flight back to Seattle, where we received an enthusiastic greeting by Stella and Duke and the reality of being home started to creep in.

See more photos from Zanizbar and Stone Town at Erik’s Flickr site.

Next: A vacation retrospective!

Sorry for the delay wrapping up the trip journal – things got back to their usual hectic pace pretty quickly!

After breakfast, we made our roundabout way to the Seronera airstrip where we bade farewell to Samuel and boarded a14-seat Cessna for a gut-wrenchingly bumpy ride back to Arusha by way of the Ndutu airstrip. From Arusha, we transferred to a newer version of the same plane and packed in like sardines for the 2.5-hour flight to Zanzibar.

Upon arrival, we were met by a rather sullen driver who didn’t have much to say for the entire trip. We asked if it would be possible to stop at an ATM on the way to Matemwe, a request that was answered with a grunt, although he did swing into the nearest Barclay’s, which was out of order. He took us to another Barclay’s, where the power was out. He grunted again and started on the road out of town after our hopeful suggestion of “Third time’s the charm, right?” It became apparent that there wasn’t going to be a third try as the city gave way to rural settlements, which in turn gave way to open rice fields. Hoping there would either be an ATM at our destination or that they accepted Visa, we settled in for the rest of the trip.

Making our way off the principal road into Matemwe village was a little offputting. We’d seen pictures of pristine, white sand beaches and crystal clear, deep blue water with quaint, thatched-roof cabins set among lush tropical foliage, but what we found was squalor. Decrepit stone structures with rusty corrugated tin roofing lined the road with piles of refuse between the houses and thick, acrid smoke billowed from fire pits scattered about the village. Not entirely certain of what we had gotten ourselves swindled into, the driver turned down a small dirt track marked only by a small sign reading “Matemwe Beach Village: No Shoes, No News”

A hundred or so meters later, and pulled into a parking area with a swimming pool on one side and large thatched roof lodge on the other. As we walked toward the lodge, we realized that this was indeed the place we saw on the website. After a welcome beverage and introductory briefing by the concierge, we were ushered to our cabin, situated maybe 20 meters from the pristine white sand beach and crystal clear, deep blue water of the Indian Ocean. We made ourselves comfortable and that was pretty much that. Our goal of not doing anything but relaxing was well under way (for the moment).

That night we ate dinner with a German couple, who were spending their last night on the beach before heading home. Gabriella warned us about the “tropical salad” at the buffet, as it was almost totally a violation of the cardinal rule of food while traveling: Boil it, peel it, or leave it.” Erik already had a bit on his plate and in the dark of the outdoor dining area, managed to eat it, which came back to haunt him later that night. Later, under the influence of tropical salad and wine, Erik contemplated climbing a coconut tree to see if he could take advantage of the emergency evacuation services included in the travel insurance policy they needed for Kilimanjaro.

The next morning Erik was feeling much better after sleeping in, and after a light breakfast and a treat of fresh coconut from the tree outside their cabin, we proceeded to spend the day by the pool, where we met a couple of girls from New York we were scheduled to go with snorkeling the next day. They were delightful company, and we spent a fair bit of time with them over the next couple of days.

The snorkeling/dive excursion was to the Mnemba Atoll, a reef system circling the private island of Mnemba. A group of us went snorkeling while others took advantage of the dive opportunity in the warm, clear waters, where we saw triggerfish, pufferfish, a moray eel, groupers, mantis shrimp, a leopard flounder, and countless species of colorful tropical fish, including one Joanne dubbed the “Kate Spadefish” for it’s inspired use of polka dots, and other she called the “Bartlettfish,” in honor of our friend Julie who employs similar color coordination in her wardrobe. After two snorkelling sessions and only minor encounters with jellyfish, we made our way back to Matemwe for more pool and relaxation.

About this time, we realized we had some pretty decent sunburns on the backs of our legs and arms, where the wetsuits didn’t cover our skin. Even though we liberally applied SPF 50 sunscreen before and during the snorkeling trip, it was no match for the sun beating down on us from six degrees south of the equator. It would take a few days before we could expose those bits to the direct sun again.

The next day, we relaxed by the pool for a few hours with our new friends from New York, and another girl we met from San Francisco on the snorkeling trip before bidding farewell to Matemwe (where they do take Visa) and proceeded to our next destination, Pongwe Beach, a mere 20-minute drive down the coast and significant upgrade in amenities and location. At Pongwe, the goal of doing nothing was more fully realized, and we spent the day enjoying our morning coffee on the patio outside our cabin, alternating between lounging by the pool or in hammocks on the beach, playing cards and drinking the local Konyagi gin with Krest bitter lemon soda in the bar, or, well, that’s pretty much all we did for three days.

Swahili Lesson #10
The Lonely Planet phrasebook suggests that nipe bia (NEE-pay BEE-yah) is an appropriate way to order a beer. However, the bartender at Matewe noted that this was rather direct, effectively translating to “Give me beer.” A more pleasant and respectful way to order a beer is naomba bia tafadhali (nah-OM-bah BEE-ah ta-fa-DAL-ee), or “I would like a beer, please.”

The few notable events of our time on Pongwe were playing “Name That Tune” when the bartender played an album of Neil Diamond covers on Andean pan flute, and celebrating Joanne’s birthday with a candlelight dinner on the beach, including a special birthday song performed by the entire staff as they paraded through the dining room and down to the beach to present Joanne with her birthday cake.

The downside to Pongwe was the brackish water in the showers, which wasn’t much good for refreshing yourself after a day of sweating in the heat by the brackish swimming pool, or swimming in the ocean. As our stay at Pongwe drew to a close and we packed our gear in preparation for our final destination of the trip, we wanted to take a few extra minutes to soak up the sun, knowing that spring hadn’t even started back home. Of course, on that final morning at the beach, it rained.

Next: Lost in a maze and the long journey home!