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Zanzibar doors

The doors of Stonetown Zanzibar have eyes. As I tried to navigate my way through the narrow alleyways, built tall and narrow when the Omanis first migrated across the Indian Ocean to shield the women in darkness on the rare occasion they needed to leave the house. Grande wooden doors without windows would hide the life and laughter of women and children living their domestic life away from the peering eyes of passersby. The decorations - in metal and stone - provide a hint of wealth but no hint of whose. Inscriptions of luck point to the superstition that abounds in this mysterious town while pointed metal knobs are a fading reminder of the days when elephants wandered through helping themselves to an unsuspecting living room. 

The alley ways are dark and mysterious, windowless doors closed to the street.  I wandered through, inevitably losing my way amongst the mystery, the twists and turns, and the melodious calls of 'jambo' from loitering men. Occasionally, one would approach me 'Lady, lady, you're going the wrong way' and as if to confirm the mystery of this tiny labyrinth, a face I'd never seen of a person I'd never met would lead me to my hotel. 

The doors of Stonetown tell a story. I tried to capture some of it in pictures.

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