Excited to have found such an unblemished (by tourism) little island we were very happy with our time on Pemba. Now versed in the craziness of the ferry we arrived to the port early and took two command posts. One of us was in charge of getting good seats and the other of putting the bags onto the luggage area. As a waited next to a huge bunch of bananas, sacks of cloves, and some industrial wheel barrels I was surrounded by young men. Now everyone is friendly and you are obliged to go through the whole Jambo mambo jumbo, but a lot of times the younger guys just use it as an excuse to hit on you. Not wanting to be rude I replied with the usual singsong conversation…
Me - “Hello. How are you? …yes your island is lovely…you are very fortunate to live here it is such a nice place”.
Guy - “Where you come from?”
Me - “I am from Obama Land (what we have began to call the USA).”
Guy – “Oh haha Obama Land very good we are friends. [Pause] So you like have baby Pemba?”
Me – [Excuse me] “What?”
Guy - “You like have Baby Pemba?”
All I could think was God NO I do not want to have a baby on Pemba and especially not with you! But instead I ended the conversation with a stink eyed “Umm…No Thanks”.
Pleased to have gotten off the beaten track things had suddenly just got a little too local. I bid my suitor a good day. Threw my bags on board and pushed my way through the hoards of people to find Jamie sweating in line.
As we left the dock I was happy that I was leaving Pemba with nothing more than some great photos and a few mosquito bites.