After a short flight on a small plane from Dar Es Salem, Tanzania, with the Indian Ocean sparkling below, we landed on the island of Zanzibar. Although the long dark days of the slave trade are only visible now at designated historical sites, the bitter remnants of the destruction of human communities, plundering of natural resources, rampant profiteering, foreign domination and colonial rule remain – corruption, poverty, and poor health. The cash cow of tourism may offer short-term benefits but long-term prospects may prove problematic – coastal lands are being developed at record pace with resorts owned by foreigners, standards of living are rising for those connected to the industry but the larger community’s economic fate is unclear, and there are increasing numbers of passionate, thong-wearing Italians coming cheek to face with modest, headscarf-wearing Muslims. (Although my swimsuit bottom is bigger than the band-aids the Europeans wear, it’s not lost on me that as a tourist we were also part of this dynamic). Yet, as Barak Obama might say, “there is hope.” We saw hundreds of children every day – girls and boys – walking, skipping, and running to school.