We were in the loading area. It was dark, except for the lights on the boat, and the headlights of the cars, that were parked haphazardly, no system. People everywhere. I did what I try to do when I get in a crowd--step off to the side and survey the situation. I needed to find Orian--he had come in ahead of me, and I knew he would be somewhere off the side, waiting for me with our things. I moved towards one of the cars where there seemed to be fewer people and moved to walk around it.
I took a step. I put my right foot forward. There was nothing beneath it. I felt myself falling. I cursed in my mind but did I scream? I don't think I had the thought, it all happened so quickly. I knew in that split second that I had stepped in that space between the dock and the boat. I am in the water, cramped between the boat and the tall unforgiving concrete side, dark, the boat to my other side, dark, tangled with my bike. Dark below, dark above, so much commotion...how will I ever get out? Will anyone hear me shout? How will I find Orian? I must find Orian. But I am not in the water. I am trapped between the boat and the dock...the boat is close enough that I cannot fall through. Only my right leg goes in; my torso, my hips keep me from falling the rest of the way.
I am so relieved that I start to howl. I can get out, I thought. I see people moving towards me, moving to grab me. I can get out myself, I thought; I can't let these people help me, they just want money. But my bike is on me, on top of me and I cannot lift it, my position is too awkward. I just need Orian; if he is here, everything will be okay. I try to tell them this, but they speak no English or do not want to listen. Okay, I am hysterical, I would not listen to me either. Am I even intelligible? Strong arms lift me out as my bike is lifted up and off, and just as I am starting to feel better, I try to stand. My leg gives way beneath me. I am so scared. What did I do to my leg? I am sobbing and howling now, I have no idea where Orian is, maybe he will hear me?
The guys are dragging me around. They keep pulling me off balance but it is not their fault; they are trying to get me to a safe place, trying to help me find my husband, and my leg will not hold weight. Every time it gives way I sob because I am scared and confused and I don't like when my body does not work. And now it is starting to ache and burn. Around me I hear "mzungu," and I know they are talking about me and telling people how I was hurt, trying to find Orian. I wonder how they will find him, but we are the only white people on the dock, and there he is, right in front of me.
They let me go, and I just wrapped my arms around him and sobbed, big chest shaking heaves. "What happened?" he asked. I try to tell him that I fell off the dock, but each time I try to say a word I just quiver and let out a sob. I think he got the idea; he carried me over to my bags and set me down. He went off to get my bikes. I set out to try out my knee and see what was wrong with it--it was obviously cramped and would move, but was it broken or sprained? I credit my background in athletics and my training in science to provide me with a presence of mind to do that while still sobbing hysterically. I could move my toes. I could move my knee around. There was no pointed pain...no break, no torn ligaments. Okay.
And I still cried, I cried because I knew that I couldn't ride to Nairobi. It was so easy for a little mishap to just decide the rest of the trip. There was nothing I could do; it had been decided for me. And cried because I was still worked up at having almost fallen into the water. Orian comes back, and with him around I calm down, the adrenaline stops being pumped into my system, I can breathe without quavering. I let him pick me up and help me hop up onto the boat. The guys put us into their little cabin on the ship, a little area blocked off from regular passengers by a little locked half-door. They went to look for a key, and when they couldn't find it, they hammered at it. They helped us bring our bags up. They did not ask for money. There were some cushioned benches. Orian set me up on one of the benches, with something under my leg to support it, because it did not want to bend but gravity was dragging at it. He brought over the first aid kit, and we dressed it as well as we could: 2 Aleve, arnica gel (which I discovered on the last bike trip...homeopathic remedy for joint and muscle pain), and an ace bandage. I drank a soda (I'd had nothing to drink since the chai in the morning) and fell asleep. I'd wake up occasionally and stretch my knee some, or would ask Orian to help me down the stairs to the bathroom.
I guess that is the end of that story. There is not much to tell; the boat ride was fine and quite comfortable; it helped that we had our little bench and also that there were fewer people on board, and that the ocean did not make the boat tip quite as much. We went back to the hotel we'd been at earlier in Zanzibar. Orian came down with a bad cold, and so the two of us were invalids for the three days we were in Zanzibar and one or two days in Dar. While in Zanzibar Orian would put the tarp on the rear rack of his bike and I would hop up and we would ride around when we wanted to go somewhere. Each day I could hobble around a bit more. It was funny; when we finally got off of Zanzibar and took a boat back to Dar es Salaam, it was the same boat we'd taken to Pemba and Back: the Buraq II. We got to know the crew well. One young man, Havi, introduced me over his cell phone to his girlfriend, who was super cute. She wanted to learn English; I sent her one of our Swahili-English dictionaries, c/o Havi. She said he wants to marry her but she wants to go to school first.
When I think back on our time in Pemba, I just shake my head and chuckle a little bit. It was not the smoothest trip we've ever taken.
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