The Chase

Over the course of our trip I've come to terms with foregoing my regular runs. In many of the countries we've explored the uncomfortable gawking and giggling just aren't worth it. In my naivety, I reasoned Africa may be different. The birthplace of many of the world's greatest distance runners, it's culture must be more hospitable to runners. Well, this is what I get for generalizing over an entire continent.

As I've already mentioned, Matemwe beach in Zanzibar, Tanzania is truly paradise. The sand is a fine white powder that stretches for uninterrupted miles in both directions. In the morning when the tide is low, it becomes a level, firm expanse of running decadence. So of course, on went the running shoes. It's safe to say that the course and ocean views did not disappoint, although the experience did hold a couple unexpected surprises. More than once as I passed groups of playing children, they immediately dropped their sticks and wheels and frantically raced after me. Limbs flailing in excitement, the mob of children would chase behind and beside me, incessantly screaming "Jambo! Jambo! Jambo!". Once I was even met with the same reaction from a full-grown woman. Seeing my approach, she abandoned her seaweed-drying duties and rushed urgently to my side. She proceeded to run alongside, shouting at maximum volume a repeated Swahili chant (incomprehensible to my ignorant American ears of course). This continued for several awkward minutes until she eventually tired of my stunned grin and trailed off chuckling. Evidently Matemwe is not where those legendary marathoners come to train.