Ibn Battutah: Maldives Mystery Island (II)
Sri Lanka was a troubled, but beautiful country, especially the highland town of Kandy where we gathered for one of those do-good conferences. But I had fallen in love with the Maldives and immediately started plotting to make a long stopover there on the return flight to Europe. When that did not work out for all sorts of logistic reasons, including the small, but annoying matter of entry visa, that country became top of my travel wish list.
Thank God, recently I landed in that same airport at Male and the “welcome to Maldives” was meant for me and there was no keeping me away from the coconuts! Since I saw them last, these islands, have become one of the most sought after( and expensive!) holiday, and especially honeymoon, destinations in the world.
It might be the Ibn Battutah theory about fish and the coconuts, but additionally, the Maldives is one of those rare places, where you and yours can live it up in a villa built over water, on a romantic island that you share with only a few lucky fellow guests.
Most of the leading hotels chains have a resort in the Maldives, occupying an entire island, where they bring their guests either on small airplanes that take off and land on water, or powerful speed boats. Though these islands are splendidly isolated , they have every modern convenience that visitors paying an average of one thousand dollars a night per couple would expect.
This influx of well heeled tourists has made the Maldivian authorities to relax entry into the country. With a return ticket and reservation into any of the over 100 island resorts( and recently smaller and cheaper guesthouses), you don’t need a visa from wherever you are. Since most local travel is by seaplane or boat, the resort or hotel you booked would arrange welcome and local transfer from Male airport.
Except that in my case the immigration officer took one look at my passport, asked a few perfunctory questions and decided I did not fit the profile of the usual tourist. I was alone and from Nigeria and I had booked a city( Male) hotel, instead of one of the pricey island resorts. So I was shunted to a side room where a more senior officer grilled me for a few minutes.
What was the purpose of my trip? Did I know anyone in the country? How much money did I have on me? I was curt and to the point with my answers and he must have sensed my silent indignation for he quickly told me to go. This was not exactly how my namesake was welcomed to these islands a few centuries ago, but then times have really changed!
Male is a small and bustling city. You can see it end to end in a few hours. The only problem is the motorbike traffic, which is considerable for such a small, laid back capital. Like daredevils, male and female riders dart out of side streets at high speed, forcing those walking about to be on constant alert.
I arrived on a Friday at mid morning and began preparations for Juma’at prayers once settled into my hotel room. Ibn Battutah has made a great deal about the piety of the Maldivians, his only grouse being that the women did not adequately cover themselves.
Even today Maldives prides itself on its Islamic identity. It is 99 per cent Muslim, Friday and Saturday are public holidays. The call to prayer is heard loud and clear from several mosques. Most shops would close for at least a few minutes during congressional prayers. The tourist brochures are full of warning about inappropriate dressing by insensitive visitors, with the government doing its best to prevent tourist mixing with locals( which explains why each resort is an island unto itself).
Yet from what I saw in Male and other smaller islands, the Islamic identity governs more of social than personal life. The mosque was full on Friday, but not on other days. Most worshippers in the city tend to be low-skill workers from Bangladesh and Sri Lanka, while neighborhood mosques in the non-resort islands attracted a few elderly men and children.
A local guide told me that religious observance is something most Maldivians postpone until after middle age. Life is so lush and languid, that for the young at least, the routine and restrictions of religion seem such an onerous yoke. The mosques are clean and airy. The main one at Male is part of a complex that also houses the offices of the Ministry of Islamic Affairs.
Set in a magnificent garden, with many ancient trees in its courtyard, it’s huge balconies open to the sea along the city’s main promenade. Perhaps as many worshippers as tourists use its shady grounds, when the sun is high in Male and it is the only oasis from the blazing sun.