Weekend in Zanzibar

With no classes to teach on the weekend in Tanzania, Bhuti, Biggie, and I decided to take advantage of the opportunity to see Zanzibar, an island off the coast of Tanzania (see map on the left). To give you a brief history lesson, Zanzibar was formerly its own island country. First, in the 7th century, it was an Arab state. It later passed into the hands of the Portuguese, then to the British, and finally back to the Arabs in 1963. However, in 1964 the Sultan of Zanzibar was overthrown from power. At the same time, Tanzania (then known as Tanganyika), had been colonized by the Germans, then passed on to British rule until 1962, when Tanganyika became an independent republic, with Julius Nyerere as President. After the Sultan of Zanzibar was overthrown in 1964, the two independent states combined to make one state: the United Republic of Tanzania. Interesting stuff.

I digress...

So, we decided to go check out this crazy Arab/Portuguese/British/African island called Zanzibar. We took a boat out to the island, which looked like a yacht from the outside, while the inside looked more like the cabin of an airplane. It was to take nearly 2 hours to reach Zanzibar. The cabin got hot and stuffy quickly, so Biggie and I retreated to the upper deck of the ship. There, we met a few Muslim guys who were studying IT (Information Technology) in Uganda but were traveling on holiday to Zanzibar (you seriously meet the most interesting people when you travel).

For over an hour, we had quite an interesting conversation with these guys about Jesus. They were very hung up on the Trinity, thinking that the Trinity meant that Christians worship three gods. They also had some very interesting beliefs about Jesus. For instance, they believed that at the last minute God replaced Jesus on the cross with another man who only looked like Jesus. The real Jesus, then, still has to come back and live on earth for 40 years, at which point he will die. I had never heard that theory before.

I asked them to share with me everything about their god, Allah. So, they did, and then they asked me about my God. I walked them through creation, the fall, separation from God, the need for a Savior, all the way up to Jesus himself--his death and, more importantly, his resurrection (which I contrasted with Mohammed, who is still in the grave). The guys listened intently, and we had a great discussion, but, in the end, we agreed to disagree. One of them, not knowing my vocation, actually said, "You'd make a great preacher. I believe that you will someday become a Muslim and be a great preacher of Islam." Not exactly the response I was looking for, but I shook their hands and told them that even though they don't believe the way I do, I still consider them friends. And I do. It was weird walking away from those guys, troubled by the state of their souls, but knowing that there was nothing more I could do. It was their choice, and fighting with them, like so many Muslims and Christians throughout history have done (and even still do today), was simply not the answer. I will likely never see them again, but they are in God's hands now. It will have to be a work of His Spirit to guide them to the Truth (I suppose it's always that way, isn't it?).

Biggie chatting with our new Muslim friends on the boat to Zanzibar.

A view of Zanzibar from the ship.

Welcome to Zanzibar!