I am now on fabled Zanzibar, and it looks like it still has a few tales left to tell. I rode "The Flying Horse" over here, a big catamaran ferry, in first class, air-conditoned luxury, all isolated from any sensation of sea. I'll fix that on the way back. First class was practically empty, and a local woman came and sat with me. She had just finished her studies in law (although she has a fourteen year old son!) and we had an interesting (and unheated) discussion about politics and religion before docking, where her husband was waiting to fetch her. He escorted us through Customs, but then I got hung up at Immigration, even though it is all one country. The lady invited me to her house, but I had focused for a long time on being brave, and planning and accomplishing the trip by myself, so when I finally finished with Immigration, I headed off in what I thought was the direction of the hotel, on foot, as it was getting dark. On the street, I didn't slow down to study an apparition, but I swear it was a guy in an overcoat, although it was 80°, and a slouch hat, with twigs and leafy branches sticking out of his coat, reminding me of a mechanical breakdown first off, but then I didn't want to find out what it really was-alone-in the middle of Africa-so I scurried on and found a taxi to dump me off in close proximity to the hotel.

I never could get through to the place everyone usually stays, so I am at the #@&% Hotel, described in the guide book "used to be the 'British Club' in the days when Zanzibar was a British Protectorate...a major rehab program should be completed by now.' My impressions are high ceilings, yellow paint (20 years old?), a winding staircase up the center of the building to Room 1 (mine) on about the fourth floor. On the second floor, the shower was pointed out, and on the third floor, the bath tub and toilet. I have already returned to the toilet, which is notable (in addition to a lack of electricity) for a window behind the open water tank, through which, it will be filled, I suppose, when the rain comes. The room itself is big, with two single beds, a dresser that looks like it came from Grandma Moore's house, a huge wooden clothes cupboard, a rack for hanging clothes, a chest of drawers, and a desk, all made locally, and another wooden door, that I think I will wait until daylight to open. The place has really thick walls and high arched doorways that look like it was built early in the 1900's, but then someone laid down some nice orange linoleum about 1940, that is wearing a bit thin. There are two windows, looking north (out to sea) and east (over the roofs of the old town), and I'd like to leave them open, but wisdom suggests leaving them closed, and the AC on, and maybe I won't have to war with mosquitos all night. Guess I'll stop for now and read some more of my Africa history.

Saturday evening. The night was notable for a lack of mosquitos, and I got up early and tramped to the other end of Old Town, to the Malindi Guest House, where everyone usually stays, and they gave me a double room with bath, at a beautiful place, for the same price. Then, I walked back to the first hotel, and got my suitcase and carried it back to the second one, and left it, and went to search for the Spice Tour. Unfortunately, there were only two of us that showed up. So we got a tour without a fancy lunch, but that is another difficulty of the rainy season, I guess. At least it didn't rain. Then I got dropped at the far end of old town, and wandered all over getting back. Sat down for a few minutes and ate my oranges and pastries, that I'd been carrying all day. We had bananas, mango, papaya, and avocado for lunch at the Spice Farm. In addition to a toilet paper shortage, there seems to be a toilet seat shortage, as three different toilets in two different hotels are lacking. Another mystery.

I've walked half-way across old town again, to the park, where there are supposed to be little stalls, where one can get cheap supper. I've staked out a bench to write letters, as the stalls don't seem to exist. There are about 300 little kids swarming all over, and a few other wagunzu (foreigners), so things should liven up shortly. I did mean to keep track how long it took until someone came up wanting something, and it took just that long. Everyone is really friendly, but usually they are trying to sell something. Around here it is some kind of tour. But unfortunately, I am running short of money, and doing OK wandering around by myself. I'll save my shilingi for dinner in a restaurant tomorrow, I think. It is really nice to be able to speak Swahili, a little, anyway. I think that the people like it better, too. It's funny, some won't speak English at all, until I've stumbled around for 10-15 minutes in Swahili, and then, gradually, they will start using English words here and there.

Later. The stalls never showed. The lady on the ferry told me gatherings were banned and mainland fruits were embargoed, because of the threat of cholera, so I guess that's why no one came. I ended up eating turnovers in a cafe near the guest house with local people. I looked at a menu in a restaurant with wagunzu, but the cheap food I've eaten so far is really good, so I couldn't spend six times as much there. At the park, I did meet a local African-Arab family and an Indian couple. One man is Chief Accountant for the ferry company. They gave me some roasted corn. The corn here is different, very tough, but it is growing on me. Have to quit now to do some postcards. This place is great, like Key West or Monterey before they got all sanitized, I think, but they are sprucing up, so you might miss the chance to see the real thing!

To continue. On Sunday, I got up and started looking for the bakery I got pastries on Saturday, somewhere in old town, but I never was able to find it. I headed off toward the Museum, but it was not open, so I tramped back across old town to a restaurant near the Post Office, where there was good food, then went back and sat in the park for a while, before hunting lunch. I went by the produce market for some pictures, maybe, but one of the merchants started talking to me, and gave me a coconut, so I just sat and chatted with the guys for a while. In the evening, I went back to the markets, but there weren't many open, so everyone is getting little packages of black peppercorns or cardamom for gifts. I ended up at a nice seafood restaurant. The boat that I came back on was an older ferry, and I did get to sit next to the rail, so it was a real boat trip.

When I got back to town, I went by a new restaurant for lunch, but it wasn't open. On the way to the film store, I passed another restaurant I had heard about, but had never been to. So now you get your lecture on public restrooms. I had been in one before, but it was on a night with an electrical failure so I didn't get a full appreciation. *I will omit visual detail here, out of consideration of those with weak stomachs, and will just call it a hole in the ground.* After I got my aim adjusted, an inch long cockroach ran out and headed for my left foot. I jumped and he disappeared, so I though he had gone, but then I felt scrabbling on my left thigh. Then, I really jumped and might have screamed, and he disappeared again. I got out of there very fast. The food was good, but I'll make more of an effort to avoid the call, in public, after this.

Anyway, I really had a great time, and the people were really nice. Even the kids begging for money, and pens, and the guy trying to sell me a Jehovah's Witness magazine (although I really feel sorrier for him, than anyone else, as he seemed more lost. Although that is probably just a romanticist's delusion, and if I'd known him for longer than 5 minutes, I'd have more right to an opinion.)

I already mailed a letter today, so I probabaly shouldn't write again, but your letter of May 26? was there today, and there are too many days without anything, waiting, not to answer anything that comes in. I wonder what Mike S. was doing at the Post Office? Does that mean he lives in your neighborhood? He was a pretty nice guy actually, just lacked some sense getting mixed up with you at your young-and-crazy stage, which you've grown out of by now, of course. You should try moving 1000-2000 miles away from your ghosts. They aren't really that good at tracking you down! Even your friends aren't often that good, or at least mine aren't. Oh well. Seems like one would want to move bees on a cold day, when they would be asleep. Are they angrier on cold days, or does that take the fun out of aggravating them?

Just had the first disagreement with Charlie, tonight, over household expenses. (John and Mary, who usually managed them, were gone for 2 weeks.) I just informed him that I was not paying for gas, that he uses to run the car all over town. Also, had a lively discussion with Dr.C. over the lack of records for the petty cash fund. It's going to be a great 2 weeks. I hope I survive. Now I have to go back to sitting in the Chief's office, as Dr.C. says I have to get mileage and gas records from him. It's really amazing how these guys think, if they make things difficult enough, one will give up and go away. If only they knew, I thrive on being obnoxious. If you don't hear from me, I am probably at the bottom of a mud puddle somewhere.

It's going to be hard going right back to summer, after 6 months of it here. Carrying my coat back seems bizarre. If I ever go away again, promise you won't send me another aerogramme, OK? I mean they are better than nothing, but somehow a real letter is more reassuring. I guess they have some merit, as they get here a few days earlier, but would it have been as interesting, if that's all I sent you? 'Course you did send me those nice packages. OK, I take it back. You can keep using them, if you insist.

The Vanity Fair made it, finally. I was wondering if it would get here before I left. Thanks a lot. What prompted that? I guess you will have probably answered all these questions to my face, before you ever see this letter. It is kind of a frustrating exercise. I was running around to get errands done today. Maybe tomorrow I'll get more work done. Have a lot of X-rays I am supposed to read. It's not absolutely necessary, but if I wouldn't waste so much time, it wouldn't be difficult. I should get started tomorrow anyway, and hopefully will get done before Saturday, so I have time to figure out how to squeeze all this stuff into two suitcases. I should stick some in a box and mail it, but that takes too much planning. I hope I can leave out enough clothes and other things, so everything important will fit. Luckily, the jewelry doesn't take any space at all.

My light meter hasn't been working, because of a bad battery, and I haven't been able to switch lenses. I bought a new battery on Zanzibar for about a dollar, but it only worked for 5 minutes. I found another battery today, and paid $6 for it, and it seems to be working well. Even without the light meter, the pictures were pretty good. I haven't figured out what to get Aunt Ruth, Uncle Gene, and Uncle Paul yet. Maybe I'll get them cashews. Young boys sell them on the side of the road, and they are highly addictive. Saw a dead dog lying on a bus bench today. That really mystifies me. Bus benches are few and far between here. Who would take the precious space, and give it to a dead dog? This is very strange.

Received your letter of 6/2. Gosh, I'm impressed. I thought everything took at least 10 days. It is 8:45 PM and I am waiting for the other guy living at the house right now, to pick me up from the hospital to go home. There's lots more to do, but I am tired. Boy, am I going to be in trouble when I get back. Oh well, I won't have to deal with strenuous things like buying gifts there. I hope you get the letter with the flights on it, before I get there, or leave the key in the shed, anyway. Everyone is trying to divest me of my earthly possessions right now. I have been asked for my backpack and my stethoscope so far. If only someone would ask me for something under $80, that wasn't of sentimental value, I would be willing to negotiate.

All the mud puddles are dried up now, and we all seem to be getting along famously. Amazing how knowing you only have to deal with each other for 5 more days lubricates interactions. The weather is cooler (80°), and windy, but not really like winter. This has been the Week of Living Dangerously, or Would You Like to Spend Your Life at a Garage? Sometime on Saturday or Sunday, while Charlie was in his long distance travels around Dar, a new loud noise arose. Later we were at Dr.G.'s house, to take him to the airport, and he looked underneath, and said, "Your stabilizer bar is loose. Your bushing fell out." I didn't know whether to be embarrased, or what. So we drove his car for the evening. Actually, I did, as Dr.G. whispered under his breath, "Don't let Charlie near it." And we carefully drove our car to the garage the next AM. They fixed it, but said the end of the shock was bent, but we couldn't do anything about it, because Dr.G. talked on Sunday of how expensive they are.

So then, driving our car after Dr.G.'s, I noticed how abysmal our brakes were, and a big truck stopped in front of us, and I nearly didn't, so we took the car back to the garage on Tuesday. The guys returned it to us in the PM, and said a seal was leaking, which they replaced, but the bracket that holds the battery also broke off, so we said we'd come back Wednesday PM to have it welded. Except Wednesday AM, the car wouldn't start, so we push started it, and went to the garage. Where, after threatening several exotic forms of torture, they cleaned the electrodes, and everything was OK. So we left. Except, later that morning, while Charlie was driving around town, he got an asphixiating sensation and smoke poured from under the hood, so he pulled into a handy gas station, and found that the battery, which had been tied in place with some twine, had slid onto the hot engine and melted one of its cells. So the mechanic there fastened it back where it belonged, and now we have a 5 volt battery (still without a bracket). Also, no exhaust pipe because the road keeps taking it off, but no one has threatened a ticket for disturbing the peace yet. Bye.