Zanzibar Slave Cave

Two of the most emotionally arresting moments of the trip to Zanzibar related, not surprisingly, to its past history as a center of the east African slave trade.  On my previous trip to Zanzibar I had visited the remains of the slave market in Stone Town, and this time proved even more solemn than before.  This year we visited what is known as the Slave Cave, which is an actual cave, appropriately, I suppose, near the beach and pretty far away from downtown.  It makes sense because you would be loading and unloading slaves from ships, but it's proximity to the ocean, and at least the dream of escape and freedom, made it all the crueler.  Apparently hundreds of slaves were stored in the cave for sometimes weeks at a time.  One of my favorite students, a young African-American woman, had an emotional meltdown in the cave, so I held her hand and we walked outside together and talked.  It was both physically, but even more painfully emotionally, stifling inside.  I had tried to prepare the students for the experience and gave them an out if they didn't want to go in, but I don't know if you can prepare anyone, even yourself, for such a raw moment.  I was very touched by the sincere compassion of the other students who gathered around their friend and consoled her.

The steps, a much later addition, leading down into the Slave Cave.

Abdul talking to the students about the cave and the cruel treatment of its former inhabitants.  They eventually went much further back into the cave, but even up front the combination of head, humidity, lack of oxygen and the weight of history, made it almost unbearable.  And, of course, here's the thing - we could have walked out at any time. Being trapped in there for weeks on end speaks to the dark barbarism which sadly resides in the human soul.

The view from inside the cave of the outside world and freedom.  Normally I curse my failings as a photographer, but in this case the blurriness seems appropriate.