13 april 2010
Although your feet are on the ground,
you seek ascension,
you tippety-toe all around
but wont pardon your French no.
Your heart and mind's in foreign lands
while others are entrapped,
you know that time is like the sands,
and the path is not mapped, is not mapped.
- Conor Clerkin
Hearing Conor strum this out on a guitar in the basement of the Kampala YMCA - which doubles as the Kampala School of Music - it was winter turn spring. Fresh notes, heart to fingertips, no processing, no packaging, it made all of the rest - radio tunes, itunes - seem like freeze dried space food.
A private concert in the American room was only one of the adventures we shared last week exploring Uganda, but it may have been one of my favorites.
Uganda was full of firsts.
- first time using a truly communal toilet
I don't mean how sometimes in America there are no doors on the restroom stalls, no. Here it was a cement area that dipped down into a drain. I had to squat down with more than half a dozen women, forming a circle, and go. My poor friend got stage fright and couldn't make it happen, fortunately I have loads of experience (swim team, summer camp, study abroad, ect) so I'm not shy when I've got to go, I've got to go.
- first time playing the role of a tourist in Africa
For what was only a week long trip, we saw and did it all.
Murchison National Park
The first day, after being picked up and driven to the park (a 6 hour ride first thing the morning after my 10 hour ride to Kampala from Kigali), we visited the Murchison falls. One of my first impressions was "it seems like there are some safety standards here that aren't quite up to par with those in American national parks" - this idea was reinforced time and time again throughout our trip. I'm still not sure which level of security I prefer.
Anyway, the falls were impressive, but it was clear that water levels, due to global warming, ect, were down from the past. There was a lot of bare, exposed rock that otherwise would have been under water given historical conditions.
We loaded back up in our 14 passenger van, that for our trip, was occupied by only Richard, our driver, Whinny, our tour guide and then the 4 of us (1 Canadian, 1 Chinese, 1 Irish and of course 1 American) and headed off to camp.
Arriving at the Red Chili lodge, we were very impressed by the cozy outdoor bar and restaurant - complete with picnic table seating overlooking the expansive park grounds. Finding that there were already pitched tents as well washed us with a sigh of relief. What did make us surprised though was the fact that right outside our tents was a family of warthogs, a mama and two babies. We didn't know if they were there to 1. protect us like little security guards or 2. attack us in our sleep. Fortunately if we kept our distance, they kept theirs and minded their own business.
Having running water at the camp was very luxurious, I guess that shows you my standards for luxury these days. We got to take showers and use flush toilets. I was happy. Also - all of our food was included in the $310 3 day "backpackers" adventure, and let me tell you, the food was good. I don't know what was best about it:
- i didn't have to prepare it
- it wasn't beans and potatoes
- there was always a veggie option
Whatever it was, I was grateful.
The next morning we woke up before the sun with hopes of making it into the park before the animals decided to call it a night. All of the safari vehicles had their roofs popped up making standing viewing possible. We had to take a ferry boat across the Nile to get into the park - a beautiful sunrise over the hippo waters was a really special way to start the day. We eagerly packed back into our van once we reached the other side and the safari began.
Now we didn't have all of the things one might envision when they think "safari"
- I didn't sport cargo pants
- I had no fisherman's bucket cap
- no binoculars
- no splash of sunscreen on my nose
But we did have
- a wonderful time
As we entered the park, everything was drenched in gold as the rising sun silhouetted the coconut trees on the horizon but illuminated the rest. It didn't take long to spot our first animals, deer like creatures - waterbucks - are in abundance in the park. Far off in the distance, "GIRAFFE!!" was just a dark shadow amongst the trees. Then "OH MY GOSH - ELEPHANTS!" as a mama and her two babies made their way, one by one, towards the road behind us.
Our vehicle, having taken a different way around the park than the rest of the caravan, was the first, and I think only, group that day to spot a couple of Simbas. As the excitement was just dying down from the initial -holycowweareonasafariinafricaandtherearewildanimalsthatinamericaonlyliveinzoos - our driver stopped the car, backed up.
"Lions".
And sure enough, there they were, two. One relaxing under a tree - clearly very apathetic about our presence - and another a ways away shoulder high in the grasses. Our cameras snapped away taking pictures as our driver and guide made "here kitty kitty" noises trying to attract their attention.
It was a surreal experience really, I had to keep reminding myself - this is real, these animals are wild, this is their natural habitat, not some man-made zoo square that they are being forced to live in - and it was natural. The park went on and on, literally as far as the eye could see. Scattered palms dotting the otherwise uncluttered land.
And our tour continued.
- more buffalo
- more warthogs
- more birds
- more monkeys
- more waterbucks
- more hippos
- more elephants
- more giraffes
It was really quite spectacular. After 5 or so hours of playing hunter with our little point and shoot cameras, we headed back to camp where we had lunch and met other travelers.
That is something, probably the biggest thing, I realized, that I miss about not being a tourist here in Africa. (I am here to work, not to holiday all the time, you know? And living in a village - it's not exactly the number 1 site-seeing attraction in Rwanda), but just meeting so many people from all over the world. That was fantastic.
The little group we formed consisted of:
- a couple from France - who smoked and spoke English with their thick accents. I miss that too - France, French.
Their moto was "why drink and drive when you can smoke and fly".
- a sassy little man from the Philippines who sounded more like he was from Britain than Asia. At dinner when he ordered a side of rice, we laughed and his response was "What?! I'm from the third world!"
- a boy named David from Germany whose eyes glittered without the sun. We got into a huge debate over feminism and gender equality. Most of the things he said were just to get a rise out of me, but he impressed himself finding that he could have such a conversation in English.
- then of course there was our contribution as well - the Irish, Canadian and American. Tommy, the guy from China tended to go to bed very early and keep to himself most of the time.
So we enjoyed, or at least tolerated (David) each other's company and after lunch it was time for our Nile River Boat tour. A two story boat took us on a 3+ hour long ride, up the river to the foot of Murchison falls. The river banks were heavily decorated with group after group of hippos. Blubbery creatures that spend their entire days just peeking above water, staying cool below the surface. That's the life, man. There were also elephants and crocs on shore along the way.
Here's another example of the safety differences between America and Africa. When we neared the falls, our boat pulled up to a small, makeshift island composed of several rocks piled one upon the other. "You have 5 minutes, you can get off and get your picture". Are you kidding me?! One slip of the foot and you'll be a hungry hungry hippos snack, swept away by the rushing current. No guard rails, no stairs, nothing.
Of course though, I got off the boat, climbed the rocks and took a picture. I did, however, think it foolish but seeing other tourist get away with such a dangerous feat, I figured I'd too take advantage of the Kodak moment.
As we returned, the sun began to set over the river, the colors of the air were so warm and we celebrated the days adventure at the lodge with a round of Nile brewskies - very fitting for the occasion. Once again with our group, we found that the more Nile we consumed, the more the language of conversation switched over from English to French - and I found this to be very refreshing, not only to relax but to revisit a language with native French speakers that I have missed for so long.
The next day, we were due to return to Kampala, but not before a couple of hours marching around in the depths of the jungle looking for man's closest relative. Chimp tracking! It didn't take long to find them and when we did, we were in awe. They relaxed in the heights of the trees, grooming one another, or just lazily relaxing and feasting on fruits. Every now and then they'd let out a few good shouts. When their leader decided it was time to move along, one by one they swung down on the vines, like raindrops of apes, pouring down around us. We got really dirty, trekking all around the forest. Along a couple of the paths, while we were walking, we heard what sounded like a big bowl of sizzling rice soup. "What is that?" I asked our guide. He explained that it was a group of ants, hidden beneath the leaves on the earth, alerting one another, a warning system, that someone who didn't belong (that'd be us) was in their presence.
We made the long trip back to Kampala that afternoon, evening and managed to meet up with other Rwanda PCVs for a delicious Ethiopian meal in the city.
Up until the last day or so, I was dumbfounded by Kampala. On Friday we spent the entire day walking around the city. It's so big - much much larger and more developed that Kigali, so many people, so many cars, so many motos, so much garbage, so much air pollution, so much stuff. Most of Friday I was too overwhelmed, sensory overload, just trying to take it all in, trying to wrap my brain around all my eyes were seeing, to even speak.
I'd been in the village far too long - but at the same time, I yearend to return to the simplicity of Kagogo's light foot traffic and fresh breeze.
Kampala just felt so big to me. Is this Asia? It seemed big like Asia - but then again, anything would compared to village life in Rwanda. It's not Europe.. but wait a second. There are two Africans - what language are they speaking? English?? They speak English? And to each other? Where's the muzungu to necessitate such a language choice? There is none. Just two Africans - speaking English to each other. Blew my mind.
But that's the way it is. Uganda was colonized by the British, not the French like Rwanda and as a result, being that there's 52 different tribal (tribes - that's a whole nother thing) languages, English is the only one they all have in common, so that's their language of communication. I found this unbelievable.
Yes. Tribes.
In Rwanda - we don't talk about such things. No one does, you don't mention the Hutus or Tutsis, even writing it makes me feel anxious. It's so hush hush and tensions are only allowed to boil below the surface. Here in Uganda though, people, from what I saw and experienced, proudly and openly declare which tribe they belong to. When I introduced myself to a young man at the Kampala Music School and told him that I am living in Rwanda he stated "Oh, I'm from Rwanda. I'm a Tutsi". .. woah.
Like I said, in Rwanda, we don't talk about these thing - it's as if these tribal divides don't exist - but Lord knows they do. So to hear someone just come out and tell me "I'm a Tutsi - you see, tall, slender, lighter skin", I was shocked. I didn't know how to respond and unfortunately I've found that it has sparked up a curiosity within. Tomorrow marks the last day of genocide memorial week here in Rwanda. I want to know, I want to hear stories, I want people to talk about it, I want to talk about it. I want to know who is "who" and what that means to them. But all of these things - they go unsaid, and although I'm curious, I could never personally bring it up. And I know it's superficial and not necessarily accurate but I do sometimes find myself looking at my community members here in Rwanda and sizing them up - observing their physical features and asking myself, well, is he/she a H or a Tatertot? Not that it would make a difference, I guess it's like - when someone has a secret, and they refuse to tell you it, it makes you even more and more curious about it all and leaves you guessing at what it might be. So, I don't know. The openness about tribes in Uganda, it made me nervous, made me anxious - left me thinking "you're not supposed to talk about that". Very, very different.
After a long, long day of wandering in and around the city, visiting different schools and the orphanage (where I met the most beautiful 3 year old little girl who grabbed my hand the moment I walked in and didn't let go until the moment I walked out - making me want to ask if there were adoption papers available right then and there and where I could sign to bring her home with me) Conor spent his time teaching music lessons at, we were exhausted and had yet another very early day to wake up for on Saturday morning so we headed back to his home, stopping in his favorite hole in the wall for an enormous dinner of beans and potatoes and all the different local foods for about 60 cents - less than the price of a soda in America.
Saturday morning, we again woke up with the sun. Rafting day, on the Nile. We had to get to a certain pick-up center in town where a van from the Equator Rafting Company was scheduled to find us. We arrived and found people going with another company waiting as well. Their buses came, I felt nervous that ours would be a no-show. Equator is a much cheaper company. A full day of rafting plus 3 meals and transportation to and from is only $75, compared to about $110+ with other groups, so I didn't know if they would prove to be just as reliable, ect. But sure enough, a van pulled up, not as fancy as the one the other rafters boarded for their trip, but it had 4 wheels and seemed to be in working order, so that was good enough for me. We approached the van and opened the door. Sitting right there, with her pink Michigan State University tshirt on, it couldn't be. But it was. Courtney, my friend from MSU. What are the chances?
Courtney and I volunteered together at LAAN (the Lansing Area AIDS Network) in preparation to join the Peace Corps. In America, we shared our frustrations about the Peace Corps application process and kept each other posted about whether or not we'd finally received our official invitations. When hers came, she was invited to join a health group in Uganda.. when mine came, several months later, it was for an education program in Rwanda. We were excited to be in neighboring countries, but never had the slightest idea that by chance we'd run into each other, let alone end up sitting besides one another on a bus ride to go rafting in the same boat!
It's funny how life works out that way.
So she was there with a whole group of PC Uganda Volunteers and the 2 hour ride to Jinja (sp?) we compared PC experiences and played the catch up game.
I realized more and more, that while I'm sure each PC group in different countries has their own set of challenges related to that countries history, culture, language, ect. that I think serving as a PCV in a country where 1. English is spoken and 2. there's no history of genocide, would make the overall experience... very different. I don't necessarily want to say easier, because like I said, I'm sure each country has it's own challenges, but imagine serving somewhere where people can and do talk openly about their identity, their culture, their past.. where the focus of society isn't so much on reconciliation, to overcome a history of such enormous pain - or bitterness, for the loss of entire families, just because of the group they'd been born in to - but on development, ect. I guess I never realized how much the past of genocide affects so many aspects of life in Rwanda and our service as PCVs until I visited a country and spoke to volunteers working there without such a bruised heart and history.
So, although in some ways I was envious of our placement differences, but honestly, even more so of the group dynamic I witnessed amongst the Uganda PCVs (they really care about each other, support each other, enjoy one another's company - our group here in Rwanda, well. That's a whole nother chapter in and of itself).. I reminded myself that I was sent here, to Rwanda, to see and experience this for a reason and I think with time, that will become more and more clear.
Rafting. What can I say? It was amazing.
Class 5.5 rapids, then during the down time between, we got to float along and swim in the river, allowing the current to take us away. We saw birds and enormous lizards. We enjoyed a delicious, and I mean - delicious - picnic lunch riverside at noon time. We laughed until it hurt over the idea that white water rafting on the Nile is really like fat camp Africa for Americans. Here, paddle. You want lunch? It's 8 miles up the river, then you have to climb a hill to get to it. I haven't laughed so much as I did with Courtney for as long as I can remember and it felt really, really great. I also put my "waterproof" camera to the test for the first time. It passed, with flying colors. It was so cool to be able to take pictures and video of an experience I know I'll remember for the rest of my life. Shit, white water rafting on the Nile. That's awesome.
Wishing that we could stay the night, but knowing that I had to return to Kampala to catch the 11pm bus to Kigali, we ate our dinner at the lodge, overlooking the river, exchanged contact information with some of the other rafters and then climbed into the van to head back to the city. All in all, things worked out really well, although it was stressful trying to buy my ticket from a man who was clearly tripping on something and who couldn't give us precise directions as to exactly when and where I needed to be to catch the bus, but I was able to meet up with other Rwanda PCVs and with Conor's navigational skills, we made it to our bus stop and after a hug goodbye, I was on my way back to Rwanda.
And here I am again, home. Feeling refreshed, relaxed although the weight of my laptop is squishing my bladder and I have an enormous pile of laundry I need to wash. Yesterday, at the post I was bombarded by love from all over the world and I was moved to tears several times by the amount of support I receive from you all on such a regular basis. The wall I'm facing while sitting here on my bed is becoming more and more decorated with reminders of home and I know that next door I have some wonderful neighbors who welcome me into their lives with open arms.
While my heart does often hurt for home, I know that at least for now, this is where I belong, and
this is how it works;
you're young until you're not;
you love until you don't;
you try until you can't;
you laugh until you cry;
you cry until you laugh;
and everyone must breathe
until their dying breath.
- regina spketor
