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| Here is Shela |
Elias brought us to the dock at the
coastal town of Shela, is the center of tourism here on Lamu Island, and known
for its lovely beaches. As mentioned, no
motor vehicles are allowed on the island.
Therefore the "streets" in Shela are just narrow alleys
between the buildings, winding and twisting here and there, with few names or
labels.
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| Big croton in the courtyard |
Eddie, our host for our time here in
Shela, met us at the beach and led us through the winding streets to his home,
which would be our lodging for the next few nights. It was a very lovely three-story house that
Emily had found on AirBNB. The ground
floor was the kitchen, den, and dining area.
The 2nd story had the bedrooms and a bathroom, and the 3rd story was a
roof deck. Enormous, luscious plants
grew in the courtyard.
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| This is our bed |
As
the sun set, we went up on the roof deck and watched the stars come out.
Early
the next morning, we were awakened by … roosters? No - Muslim chants, broadcasted through a
loudspeaker somewhere nearby.
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| View from the water taxi |
The next day we caught a water taxi to the
Lamu Town, which was about three miles down the coast. The water taxi ride was smooth and
comfortable, and very scenic. The boat
had a nice big shady bimini. We also
hired a guide named Abdullah.
Lamu was a larger version of Shela, and
was more of a commercial hub. It was a
busy, bustling town, especially along the waterfront. There were endless alleys crowded with people,
donkeys, carts, and bicycles. And cats. Like Shela, the buildings were spartan at
street level, but high above the street below you could see lovely gardens and
terraces. Our guide Abdullah said that
there are over twenty-five mosques in town.
Many were quite ornate and elaborate.
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| One of many mosques in Lamu town |
At about mid-day, the town children all
got out of school. They would run down
the street, happy and joyful, saying "Jamba"
(hello) to everyone.
There were not many tourists here, which
actually is a good thing. Heavy tourism
brings big development, high prices, McDonalds, petty thievery, and destroys
the very thing that makes a place like this special. All the locals we talked to were delightfully
friendly and welcoming. The shopkeepers
where NOT standing outside their doors, hawking us inside.
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| Fresh coconut juice. Ahh! |
The heat is stifling. We guzzled all the water we carried. But at least the people here dressed more
sensibly: men in shorts, both genders in
short-sleeved shirts, and I even see some broad-brimmed hats being worn. But still, many women wore head-scarves. And a sizeable number wore the head-to-toe
full-body burka.
Garbage is a perpetual problem here. What do you do with it? There is no garbage pickup like we take for
granted in the USA, where you just roll your trash can out to the street once a
week and never bother to think about where it all goes. When Elias and his dhow crew left empty
plastic bottles on that pristine beach, I picked them up and carried them back
to the boat and spoke some harsh words. But
now the bottles will just end up someplace else, and still an eyesore.
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| Us and a donkey |
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| Many incredibly ornate door frames |
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