Ahh… hearing the name alone makes people feel like they’re on an exotic tropical island. It needs no other embellishment.
Apparently the name was originally “Zangh Bar,” which means “Coast of the dark people” or “
The rest of Team
Who wouldn’t love being in a gorgeous coastal environment with the richness of blended African, Arab and Indian cultures?
But there is an element of
By the end of my two months in
And I am happy that I did not decide to live abroad semi-permanently for my next job.
I would be a terrible expatriate. I don’t enjoy any part of that culture: creating insular little communities, living in a gated house with a house-girl and askari, driving around in a hulking SUV, having others cook and clean for me, going out to bars with the other ex-pats – most of whom drink and smoke and generally do nasty things, especially to the people native to the community (i.e the black folks). It is an obnoxious and unmindful lifestyle.
If I move to a place like Moshi or Tabora or Kisumu, I might try to make better friends among my black colleagues, but I could never really be integrated into their communities. There would be too many barriers from both sides. There are some ex-pats, especially the white people, who say they have good Tanzanian friends, but on closer inspection, theirs is really a paternalistic relationship – the ex-pats “buy off” their “friends” by giving them CD players, extra money, nice dinners at restaurants, scholarships. I cannot build friendships in this way. It’s just not balanced or sincere when it is clouded by favors.
It has become clear to me that I travel to
So – I am happy to return to my own “native” community in the Bay Area. This is where my partner and my family are, where I am building a sangha, a community of people who support my practice in being a good person, a person of lovingkindness.
With their support, I can rebuild my strength and resolve to return to