The Plea…. and African Engagement, part 2

This is part 2 of David’s letters home regarding his engagement to Gertrude, his African bride to be.

Last night we stayed up until 2 preparing a budget for the party and also for the gifts.  I agreed with the family to pay for half of the party, which is $1,000.  The party is prepared for by the bride’s family and their village.  And they welcome the grooms family and friend’s to visit their village.  It is presided over by two speakers, one on the girl’s side and one on the boy’s side.  It will be in Luganda with over tones of English interspersed throughout.  My American guests will be sitting next to Ugandans whom will help keep them informed, but I have another idea for my guests back home in America watching the video coverage which will be made…  They entertain, make up stories, and finally after much talk, give up the bride and accept their gifts.  We then eat, dance and go home.

Then there’s the gifts.  There’s many things which are cultural appropriate to give.  Traditional dresses, a cow, and roosters to all my new brothers, and luggage for the bride as I am to take her away from her family.  And then all the little things, rice, sugar, oil, fruit and vegetables, things which I can give them and they can share amongst eachother.

As I am still a PC volunteer and will be for the next year, I am recieving $250 per month, and each month I’m able to save almost nothing.  I pray to God and pray to you all as my family and friends that you may help in any ways possible, which include.  Ideas, I want to add on flavors of America and intertwine our cultures during this Introduction ceremony, I’ve thought of bringing a box of apples, a fruit they sell here, but is expensive, while in America, they are so plentiful during the autumn months.  I’ve also thought of a third MC which will be like a live announcer in front of the camera, keeping the Americans involved.  I’m begging you all for other ideas of things to bring which may be relavant to the situation and flavourful.

Also you can attend my fathers “Cows and Chickens” benefit concert the last weekend in August,  proceed will go to cows and chicken and the purchase of an African bride.  Donate money, sending it either Western Union, or through my mother or father.  Haven’t you always wanted to buy an African bride, well now’s your chance to be apart of such a purchase, though i will not be sharing her when we return home : )

So that’s that.  I’d love to hear from you all on the subject so drop me a line sometime and convince me you’ve read this all.  Tell me how you’re doing and where you’re at.  What good news do you have in your life these days?  What cool things have you purchased ; )
Love yall
davey

The Visit… and African Engagement

This posting is a letter from my son David in Uganda regarding his engagement to Gertrude.

Time has grown short and my days of singledom move towards their last.  On saturday july 17th I drove to a town just outside of Kampala where Gertrude’s brother lived with his first wife.  The objective of this trip was to meet the aunti, who is in charge of preparing the girl for life as a wife and mother, and during this visit we would either get the go ahead on our introduction and marriage and arrange the party and gifts in exchange for the bride, or it could possibly be a big stumbling block on our path…

I woke in the morning with much on my mind and much on my plate.  I’d prepared most of the gifts I was to bring to this visit the previous day with a friend, but I still had to print a letter to the family asking permission to be apart of their family, go to the butcher for a fresh cut of beef, pick a crate of soda, crate of beer, and make everything look presentable. First thing do tackle was the meat.  About a km away from my house they slaughter about 5 cows every morning for selling through the villages and town.  I told the pup to stay at home, because I didn’t foresee her ever coming after finding such a heavenly place as the slaughter house.  When I returned with my 10kg of beef strapped to the carrier on my bike I was met by Gertrude’s neice fetching water.  Wilson, my puppy had been hit by a car.  I found her on the side of the road and carried her home.  I didn’t know if both hind legs were broken, I didn’t know if the internal bleeding would stop, I didn’t know if the mass inside her belly was just the blood and muscle, or her intestines torn apart.

Should I stay or should I go?  Will my dog live? questions poured out, as my neighbor brought the gifts inside the car to try and push me along, but I wasn’t ready to go.  Fortunately, this is africa, and noone else was ready to go either.  I met Fred, my right hand man on the road on his way to Masaka, 20 miles in the wrong direction, he said he’d be quick, but… and anthony was stuck teaching, waiting for another teacher to come and take his place, whom never came.

Three days later, I believe that only one leg is broken, while the other is still recovering it’s muscles and unable to support the dogs body.  The internal bleeding has stopped.  I give her a shot of steriods and antibiotics every morning and ibruphen cut in half coated in pb, or meat three times a day.  She’s still pretty helpless, but on the mend for sure, although I’m uncertain how a dog’s broken bone can heal.  She still hasn’t pooped, but urinates just fine, I’m hoping the poop will come soon.  And suggestions how to help a dogs femur bone heal? cast? wrap? or just pray?

Prayin is just what i did much of as I prepared to leave Wilson for the day.  In good hands thankfully, with Keiko, the Japanese nurse whom lives next door, and I’d be returning that night… hopefully…  Just after 12 is when we finally took off from Lukaya, four hours later than planned.

At 4, we walked through the doors of Gertrude’s brother’s house, slightly nervous, but mostly spent from the difficult morning and long drive.  They could not have been more welcoming.  One of the sister’s was in charge of serving us and serve us she did, while the last drop of soda was hitting my tongue, she was opening a second bottle.  The family introduced themselves to me and my friends and moved in and out of the room, while one remained present at all times.

The Senga.  The aunt which I was to convince I was worth their daughter.  Caleb sat in silence as his 20 hour bus ride, and seemingly food that he had eaten during the ride, kept him with little energy.  Peter asked all the questions, which I was affraid to ask, “Who’s that lady sitting in this room here with us?” and with his smile a good charm created a learning environment out of the event as they told us the senga’s role in bringing a girl to be a woman.  Fred and Ali sat around me contributing to the questions, answers and life of the situation at hand.  Soda turned into beer and snacks turned into food as we were pressured into gluttony as the senga sat in between us all keeping up the full time task of adding to our plates whenever a opening should find it’s way, she kept the busiest with Petey and they seem to have almost developed a bond during the lunch, similar to Harold and Maude.

After lunch talking was done, gifts were brought from the car, negotaitions were made as the Aunti, siting so close to me talked to my friend Fred about what was expected of me for the party, and for gifts to the family, and whether they’d accept the September 18th date of the party.  This is where my new family shined.  They told us the urgency of which they must prepared for the party, even in having the last funeral rights of another auntie, which must be finished before another event is prepared.  The expressed their gratitude for the small gifts which we had brought, and they asked only for “kasuze Katya” on the day of the party.  Kasuze Katya means “how did the little thing sleep?” it is kerosene, matches and a small funnel and is given to the neighbors after a baby is born.  The neighbors are suppose to check on the baby, when need be, with this fuel for their lanterns.  Once that baby is grown and become a woman, the family will then return to the neighbors this fuel in appreciation for all they had done in caring for the child.  20L of kerosene, the rest is up to me, my family and friends in order to give.  I felt so satisfied when hearing this, because now I could give the family gifts for the bride, rather than a price for the bride.  It shows their appreciation in me coming to the family and respecting their cultures traditions, and not forcing, or causing worry or strife over what is to come.  It showed how they respect our love and want nothing more than to nurture it and accept me, my family and our future children into their family, clan, tribe and expand this world into a global village.

Afterwards pictures were taken, of which will be coming soon, and we enjoyed the company and said our goodbyes preparing for the journey back.  The vibe was nothing less than electric and loving as we said our goodbyes and ventured home.  I drove until past midnight listening to Billy Joel, singing and talking to Gertude’s oldest sister, enjoying the reality of our closeness, our family…
To be continued,
davey

Africa… Epilogue

This letter just came in from David so i thought I’d share with anyone who is still craving African adventure….  such as I…

I have become every good mother’s nightmare, the punk ass kid who comes to the

house to pick your beautiful, god fearing daughter on a motorcycle.  I smile at how

out of context this whole idea is where I now stand, in addition i guess i aint much

of a kid anymore either, in ten months i’ll hit the 3-0.  It’s amazing this line I walk

between worlds.  But the truth is, i was always a weirdo, and maybe between worlds

is just the place I’m meant to settle…

Just got back from a cool motorcycle night ride from the crazy fishing village i visit

occasionally.  I brought my sweetheart

and we had a cake baking session with the

womans group from church.  Not exactly the date which accompanies this mother’s

nightmare. : )) Maama Kayesu has been asking me for over a year to come and

teach her how to bake cakes.  Since that first meeting me and Levi pulled off

December 2008, where I brought 4 homemade cake to.  Not to say by any means

we did it alone, but it was the first real project that we had worked on, and it was

amazing.

We called it HDCC’s Visions meeting.  And we asked all volunteers, employees, stake

holders and friends of the organization to come share the day with us, dream with

us, tell us what they want from HDCC and also figure out with us HOW to make

these dreams happen.

No, when i look back on the last year and a half and I look at the pile of little scrap

papers with dreams writen on which I pulled out of the burn pile six months ago, I

know that we are still far from these dreams.  It’s never easy to forge a dream

into a reality, but as humans we sure have given it one hell of a try, with much help

from the big man in heaven.

This day’s visions, showed me and Levi what we’re standing here in Uganda and

fighting for, and every person I’ve stumbled across here at HDCC has given a great

push to make this world a better place.  We are all truly blessed to work together

admist these African smiles and really see God’s beauty, live inside it and feel the

holy spirit.  It’s something i feel every so often in this life, and so much i try to ride

that wave…but it’s a difficult wave to ride.

Well, I hope this letter finds you all living your lives, dangerously and happily.  I’m

not big on the phrase god fearing, but it is also nice to enjoy His company on this

trip.  I wanted to extend my hand, so if any a yall want to check off African

Adventure on your list and youve got a stomach for pit latrines, mosquitos, posho,

matookee, foriegn languages, sad stories, the most beautiful women you’ve ever

seen, and dangerous african come.  Tell your friends to come, for a month or a

year, you’re most welcome.  consider me your volunteer coordinator and we can

work on a project to help check off the list of dreams and visions that float

through my bookshelf, and float through our heads here.  You;ve got skills, dreams,

want to learn something new, try something out.  The departments are orphans,

environmentalism, agricultural, teaching, music

, motor vehicle, masonry, tailoring,

and health.  With every single one of these projects you can help save the world,

cause let’s face it, there’s plenty to save…
But there’s also plenty to praise.  Come and share.  If you want to see me on your

trip, then you should plan your trip any where before……………………………. to be
continued………

Love yalls
d

The Artist

The Artist   © Paradis / Mirando 2008

Loneliness and Solitude – the courage to be free

There’s the empty canvas that’s calling you and me

Milky white becomes the light beyond the cloudy sky

Creating sweet illusion to sooth and mesmerize

A dab of violet in the blue – we see an angry surf

A swirling line of palest green – a flower at it’s birth

Oranges and yellows bring sunrise to our mind

As the artist strokes the canvas – what he seeks he finds

There’s a blazing sunrise – a moment that will last

Long after this days sunset has past

The flowers in his landscape will surely be around

Long after summers garden returns to the ground

Where the artist touches anger – we see a raging storm

In his love and family, a fire to keep warm

With the peace of a rested soul – a placid, tranquil sea

There’s an artist in every soul that longs to be set free

The artist reaches for his brush to paint another sky

Will it be clear or stormy – only he decides

Flowers, houses, children – playing at the beach

Brushing into life what only dreams can reach

Africa Part 8 Sushi, Steak and Farewell

David and I were pretty bushed when we returned to Lukaya from our trip down south… and once again, David threw on some Chick peas and beans and started boiling them for, who knows what, supper…  and once again, Cochava called and rescued us from such a fate by announcing that she would be making sushi.  Sure enough, within the next hour we were joined by Gertrude, Cochava, Alie, Kazuki and a friend of his.  I was a bit reluctant to have raw fish, but David, having seen the concern on my face, told me that there would be no fish, only a variety of veggies.  Phew!!  I had made it through nearly two full weeks without any significant stomach concerns, I certainly did not want to be flying home with some African bug.

The meal was just yummy.  We even had soy sauce and wasabi, and a few beers to round things out nicely.  We were laughing with Alie who had had her hair put into corn rows by Mother Andersen, who in turn was having her hair put into corn rows by Cochava.  Something pretty silly about a fair skinned, sun burned, blonde  with thin hair having corn rows…

It was a wonderful last night in Lukaya.  This is a fun crowd and we just goofed around and laughed a bit, about our adventure, about the bicycle rescue, about corn rows and just plain goofiness.  Gertrude was doing her crochet at lightning speed  as she usually did when just sitting around.  Dave kept asking her to knit him a Rasta cap for his dread locks… yep… he’s got em again!!

Things wound down and I headed off to la la land for my last sleep in David’s home.  I was ready!  I was beginning to feel an american hot shower pouring over my head and down my body…  I was tasting really cold drinks and I was remembering what it felt like to get up in the morning and head into the bathroom for some expected comforts of life in America.   But I was also very cognizant of the fact that I would be leaving David again.  But the comforting factor there was that he would be back stateside in October, a mere 6 months away.  I could handle that.

In the morning… again a leisurely morning, no rush for anything…  We had talked about heading to church, but neither of us was too ambitious about getting there.  Took my time packing and my travel pack was considerably lighter for the return trip.  I did have a couple of pictures that were returning with me, but other than that it was mostly dirty laundry and books.  I gave myself the best sponge bath I could as I knew it would be the last chance before landing in New York and I was trying to be nice to my future seat mate on that flight across the Atlantic.  My flight was not leaving Entebbe until 12:30 Monday morning and then I would be 22 hours in transit.. so I figured I might be a little ripe by the time I landed in NY 36 hours later.

Gertrude came by with her sister, Fiona, and nephew, Patience.   We spent a little time with them and then decided it was time.  I began to pick up the big pack but Gertrude would not hear of it.  David complied and picked up the big pack and grabbed the little one.  We walked very slowly with Gertrude, her sister, Patience and Wilson until we got well beyond Gertrude’s house.  A friend of David’s came by on a Boda and offered us a ride to the center.  It was then I realized I had to say good-bye to Gertrude, she was not coming to the center.  We embraced so warmly and promised that we would be seeing each other again very soon.

By the time we arrived at the Center it was pretty late and so we decided to just stay outside and sit in the shade and be lazy.  Several of the kids that were not in church came by to sit with us, play with Wilson and just hang around.  Before too long there were about 15 kids  and when church let out it doubled.  People came by to say hello and good bye,  kids ran around and played with Wilson… it was just a nice little bit of craziness that i didn’t have to engage in, but got to watch.  Not to say I wasn’t involved… I was… I had at least 1 kid or another either in my lap or sitting beside me on each side for most of the time.  They are just so sweet.   They just wanted to be near you, to touch you, to sit with you… maybe pass a few english / Luganda words back and forth.  Eventually everyone seemed to have moved off toward the girls dormatory – David had gone that way earlier – and so I got up and headed that way myself.  Once there, I was asked inside by Mama Alice, Jeanette and David.  There I was presented farewell gifts of woven bowls and a woven plate, as well as a beautiful card.  I was also given a card and a bowl to bring to Mama Kimuli back in the states.  Also in the mix, was the picture I had brought from Adam that the people at the Center were to sign, which they did, and I was to bring back to the States so Adam could present it to the Orefice’s whose $5000 donation through the Timocracy foundation had recently been given to the Orphanage.

David and I were then fed, typical fare of posha, matoke, beans… ( I secretly relished the idea that this would likely be the last time I was to have that meal)  and once done, we moved back outside and congregated on the stoop of the girls dormatory.  I sat on the concrete and mama Alice made the kids get me a mat.  It was so sweet how they did these little things to make you feel so special.  While sitting there we watched a squall roll in off Lake Victoria and dump a little rain on us.  It began just as the Boda returned to pick us up and bring us to the toll gate for our trip to Kampala.  We waited out the rain under the eave on the stoop.  For some reason, Mama Alice began massaging my feet – and then she started cracking my toes… and all this was totally absent minded as she was having various conversations and not even noticing what she was doing….   and eventually it started hurting!!  but I did not want to offend her so I kept my mouth shut until David noticed the look on my face.  She was trying to crack my big toe and it just did not want to crack.  We all laughed when she realized what she was doing.  (my toe hurt for a week!!)

The rain stopped and it was time for good-byes and for our boda ride into town.  We hugged, kissed, waved and mounted up for the short ride to the toll gate.   Typical scene once there… people running around trying to get us a ride.   We got lucky!!!  There was a wonderful guy making his way back from his wife’s family home in Mburarra to Kampala.  He had dropped his wife and new baby daughter there for a week or two of help in welcoming the new baby.  He was a well dressed banker, pretty rich, as Ugandan’s go, driving a new Nissan family sized car…. with air conditioning.  (That AC came in really handy when we got to the parts of the road that were under construction with dust flying every which way)  Apparently he doesn’t usually pick up people, but the guy who was bargaining for us said we were heading for the airport and so he looked back around to see who we were.  When he saw 2 white guys he called us over and invited us in.  That was the most comfortable ride I had had in two weeks.  He brought us all the way to the place in Kampala we needed to get to so we could pick up a taxi into Wakiso to visit David’s host family.  He did not take any money from us and he gave David good advice on how to save money for the remainder of our travels that day.

After he let us off it was back into the taxi using a shoe horn.  We traveled for about 20 minutes and in the town of Wakiso we got out of the Taxi and went in search of a car to bring us to the home of his family.  Wow… what a piece of junk this car was.  Every window was broken, I’m sure because  the shocks and springs were non-existent and the roads so filled with pot holes that it was constantly banging the chassis as it bottomed out against the suspension.  But… we got there!  The family home was at the top of a very nice hill with a view of the sunrise and the sunset over the fields.

The house was bigger and cleaner than most and had almost a Florida look as we pulled in with a palm tree in the side yard.  We were greeted by his mother and Father and several of their grandchildren.

They were happy to see David and they also welcomed me so warmly.  Once again, the youngest  children, twins, came and knelt in front of me and took my hands to greet me.  The twins have names that mean “First born male twin, second born female twin, Kato is the boys name… I do not remember the girls name.  I think Kato also stands for …  ”wise guy kid in cool shades”

We were also visited by Joseph, one of the sons, and James, one of the oldest grandchildren.

It was a wonderful visit.  We sat around and talked about the kids, about David and his Basilica (Gertrude).  They fed us ground nuts and soda, and gave us a tour of the gardens where they grow coffee, jackfruit, banana, guava, potatoes, sweet potatoes and other things.  They also have goats, a couple cows, chickens, a couple pigs and a dog.  This dog had been attacked by wild dogs when David was living with them.  David heard the attack and saw the wound, medicated it and helped the dog recover.  He was very reluctant to come to me because apparently he doesn’t trust whites, but I managed to finally pet him a few times before we left.

As we were getting ready to leave, I put my new sandals on and the main strap broke.   But… no problem!  When we got back into town David found a cobbler and 3 minutes later he had stitched it back together and I was off and running…. so to speak!

The ride into Kampala in a taxi was a lot of fun.  These were the very worst roads I had seen yet.  Nearly impassable… in fact, no one in America would dare to travel a road in such condition.  But along we banged and bumped and swayed until we were back on paved roads, when the conductor looked at us to say that this was our stop.  We disembarked and walked 100 yards up the road to a little restaurant / backpacker hotel that David was familiar with.  David recommended that I order the steak, and since I had been craving a nice steak since about the 2nd or 3rd day in Uganda, I followed his suggestion.  Now I had been having waking dreams about my first night back in the states and how I would go down to Whitfields and order up a yummy hanger steak and just relish the taste of good old American food.  But guess what…. that craving left me.  The steak and the entire meal that came with it was absolutely fabulous.  Perhaps this would not be quite as top shelf if it were here in the US, but it was outstanding given the circumstances.

So, with some wine and a good meal in our bellies, we sat back and enjoyed the last bit of time we had together… or so we thought.  It was time to head to the airport.  David got us a private hire to bring us to there, we loaded up and off we went.  As we got to the airport there were armed guards stopping each car and asking if we had anything to declare.  We said no.  They asked where we were going and when I said back home to America on British Airways, he smiled and said, “Are you sure?”  I replied that I was sure and he waved us on.  Well…  he obviously knew what we were about to find out, that British Airways was 1/2 hour into their labor union 3 day strike.  My flight was cancelled.  Since Entebbe is not a very big airport, maybe 3 or 4 planes on the tarmac at any given time, it was unlikely there was any other plane heading my way that night.  They told us to call in the morning, but since my flight was booked through American Airlines I called them right away.  The best they could tell me was that I could get a flight on Tuesday afternoon that would get me back to JFK on Wednesday morning.  I booked it, but then I called Christy and left her a message about what was going on.  Well my wonderful daughter knew just how ready i was to get out of Uganda and she got on the phone and, after much wrangling, got me a flight out of Entebbe, through Ethiopia, into Dubai, back to London and on to JFK leaving on Monday afternoon.  So David and I went back to the hotel, tucked in for another night, got up in the usual lazy fashion, showered and went off to meet his Peace corp charge, a middle aged man named David.  The three of us went to a place in Kampala called “1000 cups of coffee”, for lunch.  It was pretty nice.  I had a fruit drink that actually had ice cubes in it, a first for me in Uganda.  After lunch we found a car to bring us back to the hotel to pick up my bags.  And now, finally, it truly was time to say goodbye to my son and let him go back to his life in Lukaya.   We gave each other some great hugs and smiles and I settled into the car fighting back a few tears, but knowing it was time.  This time, the plane was there.  My new flight was aboard Emirates, a really lovely airline.  Clean, good food, new planes, wonderful flight crew and I was in the emergency aisle so I had 6 feet of legroom and the seat next to me was empty.  Our first stop was in Addis Ababa, Ethiopia.  We were on the ground for about 1 1/2 hours and I got to see an Ethiopian sunset.

Next stop was Dubai.  I would’ve loved to see this in the daytime but it was the middle of the night so all I saw was the inside of the airport.  I did kill some time with the most expensive cup of coffee I have ever had!  $5 American!!

Then another nice Emirates flight into London, and then crunched in like a sardine on American Airlines next to a proper English gent that I imagine would had preferred someone that smelled a little nicer.

Off the plane… through customs and into the car with my buddy Phil.  I must say, I have never been so relaxed as a passenger driving in New York.  Phil let loose a few curses as the NY drivers cut in a little too close… but I just smiled at how courteous and careful American drivers were…. how relaxing it was to drive in New York.

One last thing that had to be done… after a shower that is….   I got in the car and headed to Madison to meet my Christy, JP and Adam for dinner.  Seeing them healthy, if not a bit sore still, was the icing on the cake of a wonderful trip and a beautiful and lasting experience of a culture, a place…. people, that I am now connected to for life.  It will be a long time before I forget those beautiful people and the grace and gratitude they exuded in the face of such simplicity.

So, thanks for following along.  Hope you enjoyed reading as much as I enjoyed sharing it with you all.  Be well, travel safe and … Webale!

Kale

Jim

See you in October………

Africa Blog Part 7 Boda Boda

So, after securing our Bodas in Ntungamo and fueling them up,  off we went from the gas station riding along the nicest road I had seen in all of Uganda.  It was extremely lightly traveled, perfectly paved and maintained… in fact there was a group of men along the side of the road doing maintenance as we passed.  I began to feel so good that this was going to be a pleasurable trip… the hills were still the lovely green rolling farmlands I described earlier, this road seemed to be off limits to the game of chicken that was so prevalent everywhere else I had been in Uganda…  We were zooming along at about 80 kph only slowing now and then as we passed a town and the speed bumps appeared.   It was sunny and warm so I removed my long sleeved shirt and tucked it under my backpack which was tied down behind me.   I knew we had a long trip if we were going to see Queen Elizabeth National Park and have a shot at seeing Elephants, but I was encouraged by how nice the road was and how pleasant the day was.

Oops!!   Why was he turning off the road?  Oh no!!   Not one of those dirt roads!!!   Oh yes.   After only maybe 30 or 40 minutes we were turning off that wonderful road and onto a more typical Ugandan highway…  a 20′ wide dirt path with potholes and gullies, soft sand and hard packed rocks, twisting and turning through fields, passing little run down towns, open fields, up hills and down, dodging other Bodas, moving aside for cars to pass us…   This was a bit more challenging, but a bit more fun as well, I must say.   I was a little nervous at first simply because I was not very used to handling the Boda and very nearly drove off the road and down into a pretty steep and deep mucky field…  that’s what might happen when you turn one way but lean the other on a motorcycle… but I managed to keep the bike on the road and began to gain some confidence in handling the rough terrain that passed pretty swiftly beneath my wheels.   David was not taking his time since he knew just how many miles we needed to put behind us if we were going to get those Bodas back by 6:00 as promised.  When i did get the chance to look up and notice my surroundings the landscape was just beautiful.  Those hills were closer and we were weaving between them.  This was a very lush part of the country with a variety of plantings lining each side of the road.  Another awesome view of the hills … one after another, fading into the distance, would come into view around every other corner.

At one point I noticed that my backpack had come loose and had flopped over and was dangling behind the boda.  So I stopped and re-tied it, but I had lost that long sleeved shirt and the broken reading glasses that were in the pocket.  At first I thought, no big deal… it was a nice white shirt at one time, but I had worn a tear into the shoulder where my guitar strap crossed the shoulder and so it was heading for the scrap pile soon enough.  And, I thought, someone will find it and enjoy it for a while yet.  But what I realized a little later, as we climbed into those hills and the day wore on, was that this shirt was the only long sleeve shirt I had, and I would want something on my arms as the evening came along.  Oh well… cross that bridge when we get to it.

We rode for what seemed like forever on this tiny, bumpy, twisty turny road and eventually came through a town and back onto pavement.  We continued for a while longer and stopped along side the road at a little restaurant that I believe David had been to before on his trip with Christy and Adam.  It was the typical fare of posho or matoke, beans, rice and / or meat.  It would take me quite a while to get used to that diet… it was not very satisfying for me, but it did the trick, filled me up and provided the energy I needed for the rest of the trip.

As we went on the hills began getting bigger and the road more curvy, and the air just a bit more chilly.  At this point I do wish that I had taken a few minutes to get out my camera but we seemed to be on a mission and I did not want to put a kink in the works… but this countryside was gorgeous.  And then we rounded one last hill and came around a sharp curve … and there, laid out for miles and miles and spreading out to the north, east and west, was the low flat grassy, scrubby plains of Queen Elizabeth National Park.  It was breathtaking actually.  It literally went on for miles and only ended at the Renzouri mountain range some 100 km away across the park.  Silly me… I did not stop for this photo op either.

We then began our descent into the park passing one sign after another for safari adventures and little hotels for the tourists that came to see the real wilds of Africa.  We passed them all and headed right down onto the main highway that shot straight through the center of the park running north and a little west.  About 10 or 15 KM along that road we made a left hand turn onto a dirt road that seemed to get more into the heart of the wild…  and sure enough, after just a few minutes we saw a pretty big Elk of some kind wandering across the road up ahead.  He heard us coming, stopped and took a quick look, then vanished in the scrubby trees and brush that lined the road.

We then continued along this road for quite some time, I’d guess 45 minutes or so.  The only spottings after that Elk were a broken down tractor trailer, several Bodas and bicycles, lots of grasslands with those scrubby trees … and butterflies…  lots of butterflies.  They liked to hover near the puddles and they flew up en mass as David’s Boda zoomed by.  We probably stayed on this course longer than we should have continuing to hope for some wild animal sightings, but it was not to be.  We then turned around and headed back to the main road… still hoping to run across some animal or other.  Once back on the main road we did see a lone baboon just sitting on the side of the road watching us go by, but that was it for my romp through the wilds of Africa.  We reasoned that it was pretty late in the day and the animals had probably long since made their way to their watering holes and were napping in the hot African afternoon sun.

This is an interactive map of Uganda highlighting the places I have written about and mapping the Bike and Boda trips… enjoy!!

View Larger Map

I stole one last look at that incredible view as we crested the hill on our way out of the park, and then turned the corner back toward our final destination of Ntungamo to return the Bodas.   It was getting near 5:00 pm and we realized we were going to fail miserably at returning them by the 6:00 time we had promised.   David made a call to the Boda guy so they wouldn’t worry.  The sun was moving toward the western sky and the day was cooling off.  We stopped at a place that had cloths and David found me a long sleeve overshirt with an insignia for a soccer team.  We stopped for a cup of tea  at a roadside business that seemed to have Americans and Europeans in mind.  It had a bathroom!  The tea was good!

At this point we knew we would be getting back in the dark.  We mounted up and put the pedal to the metal.  It was nice to have that extra shirt, but even then it would have been nice to have a jacket… oh well.  We made our way back to the turn that put us on the dirt road and began our return trip bouncing and dodging.  It seemed to me to be a lot busier a road at this point and so there were many more obstacles.  At one point along a steep and very crowded section of road as I worked to navigate the potholes and ravines that made up the road,  I saw one Ugandan woman, carrying a burden on top of her head, go scurrying to the roadside as far away from me as she could get.  I don’t think she had any confidence that I was going to successfully maneuver the road obstacles and avoid her.  I can still see that look on her face… part fear and part contempt.   Well, what does she want, I missed her!  We both survived!

So the sun is getting lower and lower, we are coming to lower elevations so the temperature remained warm enough… but there was this one other little problem we began noticing as we rounded certain corners and crested certain hills…  there was a nastly line of dark clouds that were obviously dumping lots of rain over the hills and valleys directly in our path.  At first we were both hopeful that it would pass and the worst thing that we would have to deal with would be wet roads.  But as we twisted and turned and made pretty good time along this road, and we watched the lightning streak across the threatening sky, we began to understand that we were going to either get really wet, or we would have to find a place to wait it out.  David pulled up to stop and said that he thought we were very close to a certain town we had come through earlier in the day and he asked if I thought we should just forge ahead or try and find a place to stop.  We were putting on our rain ponchos as we discussed this.  I told him I was ready to do whatever.  Well, his instincts were very good.  Within 5 minutes we came upon that little village and we found an awning to stand under just as the worst of the rain pelted down.  We were there with 5 or 6 locals and we struck up conversations… well, David was having a good and lively conversation with one guy and there was a second guy that was trying to have a conversation with me.  I did manage to understand some of what he asked, and we talked a bit about America…  most Ugandan’s talked as if they were going to get to America one day, and a few asked if they could come back with me.  I told he he would be welcomed if he was able to make it there.  He then asked me if I had contacts.  I thought he meant for putting in my eyes so I could see the road through all the rain.. but no, he was asking for my phone information, a way to reach me when he got to the states.  I did not have a phone there in Uganda so I simply stated that he would reach me through David, who was busy trading contacts with his guy.

I would say we waited for about 30 – 40 minutes for the worst of the rain to let up and to get back on the road.  By this time the sun was pretty much down and we were in twilight.  Off we went through puddles and rivers.  The sand of earlier in the day turned into the slickest mud that, at one point, grabbed David’s front tire and turned him 90 degrees in an instant and he slammed into the raised embankment on the side of the road.  He was fine, never fell… he just looked at me, we both chuckled and got back on our way.  Just before the last remnants of the light of day vanished altogether, I followed David into a pretty deep puddle and my motor sputtered and died.  David did not notice and continued along ahead and around the corner.   I did not panic as I knew he would notice sooner or later and come back to find me.  I tried starting it again several times but with no luck.  I then began to simply walk with it, again, knowing David would be back soon and then we would figure it out together.  I knew the motor would dry out and we would be able to get it started again eventually, but i thought we might need the light from his boda to make that happen.  After several minutes  another boda came by and the driver stopped and asked if I needed help.  I said I did.  He obviously knew what had happened and knew the remedy.  He simply kicked the starter over and over and over … and eventually the motor sputtered back to life.  This was just as David returned around the corner in front of me.  The other driver was asking to get paid for his efforts.  David seemed annoyed with him but I told David what he had done and I had no problem giving him a little money.  David let me, but said later that he would have told him that if he ever came across him broken down, he would help him for free.  The same thing happened a second time a few miles down the road but this time David was paying a little better attention, having been a bit freaked out that he had lost his Pa  along a dark African road… not sure if I had ridden off the side and crashed into some dark, overgrown field where they would find my body the next  morning if the wild animals hadn’t eaten me.  (Okay, that wasn’t really David’s thought, but it did pass through my mind just a tad…)

On we went through the night, and every time I saw a light up ahead I thought we were back at the road and it would be clear sailing from there on. But no… it was one false alarm after another for a seemingly interminable time.   Speaking of sailing, I was reminded of the last sail that David and I had had before he left for Uganda 19 months earlier.  On our way back from the Thimble Islands and just as we were coming up on Faulkners Island, we had run into quite a storm

(remember this picture)and had to endure a couple of hours of soaking wet and cold wind before we got back to the slip and a hot shower.  This felt pretty much the same.  The rain never really stopped and we were pretty wet.  It was cold, but thankfully the plastic poncho did wonders keeping out the breeze and keeping in the warmth…  and the return trip just seemed to take way too long.

But, just as we had once upon a time finally sailed back into our slip back in the good old USA… our cold, wet and bumpy ride along this dark African road came to an end.  We finally reached that intersection where we turned left and headed back down that paved, smooth, unpopulated road toward  Ntungamo.  As we drove back into town and came to stop near where we had first gotten on the Bodas, the crowd materialized again.  The boda leader, Ivan, returned to the spot and there was good cheer and chuckles at these two ballsy muzungos.  I am sure there was also some relief that the Bodas actually came back and in one piece.  Ivan then had us delivered to a hotel where he made all the arrangements for us to stay the night and to have a nice sit down meal.  he was introducing us to the hotel manager and the owner.. and they were all making a fuss over us.  I am really not sure why this happened except that perhaps Ivan really liked David and wanted to be his friend, his contact for any further travels in the area, but we sat and had beers and dinner with a Ivan and his sidekick, and the owner of the hotel.  I think both David and I would have been happy to have been left to ourselves for a quick bite (it took over an hour for them to bring our meal by which time neither of us were hungry) and to slink away for a hot shower and a good nights sleep.  This was a nice place as far as buildings go, but it had only one double bed we had to share and, while it was a nice “suite” the second room had 2 plastic chairs and a tiny coffee table… period!  The room was concrete and tile all around and so being inside was not unlike being entombed in a pretty grave.  It had this unwholesome echo that seemed to almost swallow itself.  After a less than satisfying nights sleep we got up, did our usual morning reading and lazing around ritual, and decided to bypass Ivan’s offer to find us a ride back to Lukaya and simply cross the street and jump on the bus that was about to leave.  As far as timing goes… this was perfect!  We simply got on the bus and they left.  They sat me next to one of the larger Ugandan men I saw, and between us two lard asses we could have used an additional 6 or 8″ of seat…  but no complaint, I just sat there with that handle digging into my hip for the 4 1/2 hour ride to Lukaya.  This was the ride which I spoke of earlier in which we were nearly run off the road, in which the bus stopped so everyone could use natures bathroom, if they chose.  David spent a good deal of this trip with a little baby on his lap.  I sat across the aisle from a man I considered to be Muslim who chanted for a good long portion of his time on the bus beside me.  It was actually rather soothing and a bit meditative.  There were mothers nursing their babies, men pedaling soda’s, there was some kind of official guy in uniform.  I never heard a baby cry, and there were several on board, never heard a word of complaint uttered by man, woman or child.  One and all simply existed in the place they had landed and waited patiently for their stop along then way.  My seat mate was very conscious of making sure I had as much room as he could give me by tucking his ample self into the smallest ball he could manage… that is, while he was conscious.  But he fell asleep several times and then his body kind of spread out casually to the point where I could not sit straight forward but had to turn sideways with my feet in the aisle.  But finally, when I thought we still had to go through Masaka  and therefore another hour to our final destination, my buddy informed me that Lukaya was just ahead.  Five minutes later David and I had left the bus and were walking along the streets of Lukaya on our way back to his home… exhausted, but grateful for a wonderful trip and each others company.  We were both aware that there was one more lengthy trip to make, a bittersweet one, back to Kampala… Entebbe, where I would say good-bye to David and head back across the pond… and he would meet up with a new Peace Corp recruit and bring him back to Lukaya for a week in the trenches as part of his training.

So I will continue this blog later for one last installment where we will meet David’s host family that named him Kimuli, and say our farewells…  if not just a bit later than anticipated.

Peace

Jim

Africa Part 6 Byoona Amagara

So now we get to the highlight of the trip… at least in terms of the location.  Down in the southwest portion of Uganda is a town called Kabale.  By the time you get this far out you have noticed that the hills have increased in size and frequency and that they are terraced to accommodate the farming lifestyle of the Ugandan people.  You also notice the skies are much more likely to be overcast or raining, at least part of the day…  but that just adds to the lush green vegetation and feeling of clean….   ahhhh…. clean!

I awoke pre-dawn to the sound of a pouring rain.  I got up to use the bathroom and realized that the hallway outside of my room was partially uncovered and it was raining out there.  No problem, I picked my way carefully to the bathroom and back and climbed back into bed, thinking that this rain would be a lousy thing if it was to stay for the day.  We had seen the results of a heavy downpour on the road on the way in where a hillside had let a pretty good amount of earth slide down into the road.  By the time we passed it had dried and the cloud of dirt that was kicked up by a passing truck required our taxi to come to a full stop, as it completely obliterated any visual sign of the road ahead until the dust settled.  Anyway, I was conjuring images of a a wet and muddy day, drearily making our way through the hills to the lake, and then across the lake in a boat to the Island where we planned to stay.  But by daylight, my fears were allayed as it had stopped raining and seemed to be promising another sunny day.  David and I did our usual easy going intro to the new day.  I decided to go have a cup of the “real brewed Coffee” the signs  that I had noticed the night before were promising.  I was not disappointed.  They brought a small pot of the stuff and it was yummy.  I sat and read, and sipped my coffee at a table outside our room for well over an hour.  David came out and we had breakfast and, after another pot of coffee, we took a stroll into town to hit the ATM machine and the grocery store.  We packed up and found a car for the short trip to the lake.  David and the boat taxi attendant seemed to know each other from his previous trip and so they chatted while I just sat and waited for the taxi driver to return.

When he did we embarked on a 15 minute boat ride weaving through the islands on lake Buynonyi and landing on Amagara, a peaceful, well planned little island with cabins, huts, a lodge, a library, a swim dock (this is one of the few lakes in Uganda that are safe to swim in.  Most have a parasite that makes it unsafe), small farmed areas, lots of birds and views views views!

David and I secured a cabin for the night and settled into the beautiful peace of this quiet little corner of God’s gorgeous earth.

There were no sounds of motors, airplanes, cars, boats, lawnmowers refrigerators, fans, generators….   absolutely peaceful!!!  The only sound was the slicing of the scythe as an island caretaker “mowed” the lawn in front of our cabin.  It did have the same welcomed smell of freshly cut grass without the noisy lawnmower engine.

I took advantage of the fresh outdoor shower and cleaned the dust of a day and a half worth of road off me.  It was the first time I felt clean since leaving home.  I started peeking around the paths the lead to and from our cabin, one of which led to a cleared field that you could just see from our deck.  It was simply wonderful.  Buyonyi means, “place of many birds”   This was true.  There were many varieties that I have never heard of.  Most particularly we spied two Crested Cranes on a tilled hillside not far from the field.  David and I went for a closer look and we got there, but they were on to us and walked away at first, and then, when we persisted, they flew off.  We did snap some pictures and I will send them along when I get them from David.

There was a nice lodge on the Island where you could get your meals and some beer, wine, coffee, tea, as well as a few souvenirs. David and I pieced together a backgammon set using backgammon pieces, as well as bottle caps and scrabble letters.  We had a few games to pass the time in perfect Island fashion.  It did not take us long to make the decision to stay 2 nights so we could actually wake up and go to sleep in the same place for the first time in a few of days… and this was certainly the place to do that.

We watched the sun go down from our deck and just enjoyed the dimming light in the western sky as the stars began to sparkle in the east.  We walked to the lodge for dinner just as it was getting really dark and enjoyed a quiet dinner.   We had had a pizza earlier, but i think I got pizza again since it was so good.  Had another Club beer or two as well.  It was a quiet night at the lodge.  Only  a couple other people.

As we walked back to the cabin we were looking skyward and enjoying the total darkness and the blazing milky way and all the stars from horizon to horizon.  We got to talking about the “Southern Cross” and we wondered if we would know it if we saw it.  So, since we were just a few miles south of the equator and it was just a day or 2 away from the vernal equinox, it was easy to determine true south by remembering where the sun had gone down, which would have been just about a perfect west.  So there we were, standing on our little deck outside our little wooden hut with the grass roof and the bamboo railings, with a perfect spot of sky open to the south…   and there it was… unmistakable…  the four stars that make up the Southern Cross.  “when you see the southern cross for the first time, you understand now why you came this way.  ’cause the truth you might be running from is so small, but it’s as big as the promise, the promise of the coming day” I had always expected to see the southern cross for the first time from the deck of a sailboat in the Caribbean… but this…. in this perfect Paradise….  with my amazing son…   no other time or conditions could replace this moment for me….    It was perfect!  Together we sang a bit of the song and just enjoyed the night sky and the sounds of the island night.

There were several more people on the island the next night including an older man that was obviously a bit travel worn.  When I asked him his story he told me that he had left Bangkok about 2 years ago and he is making his way home to South Africa.  He hopes to be there in time for the World Cup.  I guess he does travel writing but when I asked him for whom, or where I might see his work, he gave me an address on the internet that is no longer being serviced, although it is up.  But it seems to be a place for amateur writers to post their blogs.  So I guess he just likes to travel around and enjoy a little conversation here and there.

There was a brother sister couple from the Netherlands.  She was doing volunteer work for an organization in Uganda having to do with agriculture… the brother was a farmer back home.   There were several students having an adventure.  One was in Uganda doing his thesis on a sustainable energy process.  They all seemed to be European and the backpacking, wandering type.  There was another younger guy who I think I remember as Australian who was making his way to South Africa also for the world cup.

On Friday morning we made the one exception to our lazy morning routine.  We got up at 6:30, packed and headed to the lodge to get a boat back to the mainland.  It seemed it would take a while so we had breakfast before we headed out… and I had another cup of brewed coffee… or at least my concoction mixing the espresso they made with some hot water.  But by 8:00 we were on board the little boat with Byoona Amagora receding into the distance behind us.

The reason that we had made such an effort to get up and away so early and leave this serenity behind, was to go have an adventure.  We wanted to see if we could rent some Boda bodas and do a tour of southwest Uganda and Queen Elizabeth National Park.  There we might see elephants and maybe other wild animals.  It’s a good thing we did get up early because getting the taxi out of Kabale would prove to be quite a frustrating exercise of hurry up and wait.  We circled back on ourselves a half dozen times in their tireless effort to fill all the seats in that taxi.  It was over an hour from the time we sat down in the taxi, and after 10:00 before  we at last began the trip in earnest out of Kabale.

We got off in Ntungamo hoping for those Boda bodas.  It was once again that comical sight where all the drivers know that there is a possible sale to the Muzungos and so they gather around to bargain, or at least to witness the bargaining going on.  And of course, David secured us 2 pretty new Boxer Bodas for our little excursion for the day.  I had been harboring a little quiet fear of the moment I first rode away on the boda since I had not ridden a motorcycle in perhaps 30 + years.  But my fear was unfounded.  I won’t say it was graceful, but a little cheer and a chuckle went up when I actually managed to pull away from the crown without any significant struggle.  Woo Hoo!!!    Felt awesome!  We pulled into a gas station and put 10,000 shillings into each of our tanks, got ourselves a couple bottles of water, made one last check to be sure we were tied down well… and off we went.

But time for a break.   I’ll save the Boda ride for the next time.

Peace

Jim

Africa Part 5

Okay… time to have a vacation!!

There were a few quick stops to make on the way out of town.   The coolest was visiting the school where Mama Alice and Gertrude both taught.  We visited both classrooms and were welcomed by a throng of such well mannered children.  They stood, greeted us…. David spoke to them in Luganda and english.  They all responded almost in unison. And in each classroom, when they were asked to say goodbye, they did this really cool hand clapping with a syncopated beat.. entirely in unison, and on the final clap one hand swooped off the other as if flying away.

We headed to the taxi stop on the edge of town and since it was noonish we decided to grab a quick bite.  We had eggs and chips, and a fruit drink… and I must say this was pretty yummy.  Once outside we were immediately spied as needing a ride and one of the … I don’t know what you call them, but every taxi stop seemed to have at least a couple guys that would take you on and find you a ride, and the taxi driver would pay him some small coin for his efforts…  so this guy found us a ride in a taxi and david made the deal to bring us all the way to the access road to Lake Mburo national park.  I even heard him say many times… “10 kilometers beyond Lyantonde.  I could tell by the way he was bargaining that the last 10 KM was going to be an issue…  and sure enough, when we got to Lyantonde they began unloading our bikes and telling us we were there.   David then had quite a confrontation and, as is often the case, many people gathered close around… they seem to love it when there is disagreement.  I must say it was a bit intimidating being the only 2 white faces in a crowd of maybe 20 people…  that being the clear tip off that we were the foreigners.   To make matters worse, at one point David got on his bike and took a little test ride to see if it had sustained any damage since we heard the bikes hitting the ground on several occasions along the road.   I think he also needed to cool his heels a bit.  This left me there alone on this dusty little street corner in a poor little town in this third world country where I didn’t know more than a handful of words and I did not understand their currency….   but I wasn’t intimidated… nope… not me!!!   No problem… David hardly rode out of sight and he knew what he was doing.  He held his ground…  made them find us another ride, which they did, and made them bargain between them for the difference in the fare.  In reality, they will always try to score a few extra shillings, especially from us rich, white muzungos, but they will usually agree in the end since they would rather have a few less than none at all.

So off we went that last bit and we were let off at the access road that I could see meandering up the hillside and into the hilly, scrubby plains beyond.  Now for the real test.  We were pretty late getting there, about 4:00, and we had about 25 KM to get to the camping area at the Lake.  The bike I was riding had that nasty problem where if you put too much pressure on the pedals the sprocket skipped and your whole body went into momentary shock.  This was extremely frustrating to me and coupled with the late hour and my fear of having to ride into a wild animal reserve in the pitch black African night was certainly unsettling.  I was practicing many of my old familiar American curses as my bike continued to jar me.  After a little while of this my nerves were pretty shot and David let me know that my attitude was not making it any fun for him…. so I did my best to relax.

As we rode in the first animals we saw were the many many cattle being led along the road.  At one point there were so many that we thought it was wise to walk our bikes past lest one of them turn their huge horns at the wrong moment and skewer us as we rode past.  About 10 KM in we came to the gate into the park itself.  Here we stopped for some water and a bite, and we had to pay the park fees.  As we continued on we began to see the wild animals to each side of the road.  The first were Zebra and Impala.  Then wart hogs, monkeys, water buck, and Topi.  Sure enough, it began to get dark and we had to get our headlamps unpacked and on our heads.  Right about then we saw up ahead a vehicle headed our way that was stopped with a couple men standing alongside.  I asked David if he thought that this was the part where we get robbed and beaten and left for dead on the side of the road.  He replied matter of factly, “we’ll see”!  but no such worry.  They were park rangers, some in the vehicle, some on foot.  They were armed with rifles, as many security and police personnel were in Uganda.  They offered a warning to be careful as it got dark wished us luck.  We continued on into the deepening darkness…  with perhaps a little greater sense of urgency and came around the corner into the campground just about when the last hint of light vanished from the sky.

(I am sorry that I have no pictures to share with you at this time since the pictures I took on this part of  my journey were the ones that did not make it back from Africa with me.  However,  i would encourage you to visit Adam’s photography website and view the slideshow on Africa… some of the pictures are of the same places I traveled to and his work is far superior to mine.   http://www.photobiz.com/slideshowbiz/slideshow.cfm?slideshowID=77151&photographerID=7995 )

We were shown to our tent..  a large canvas tent on a wood platform with two twin beds under mosquito nets inside.  David was hungry and so, against the wishes of the park guide, we got on our bikes and made our way cautiously along the park roads down to the lake.  There were wart hogs in the clearing by the restaurant, but there were no other signs of animals.  David’s fear had been hippos because apparently they come on land in the night to sleep.. and they are not friendly at all… you do not want to spook them.  At the lakeside lodge we ordered up a couple beers and some food.    It came with a heavy dose of white pepper and neither of us liked that meal much at all.

Picking our way carefully back to our tent we did hear one low grunt from the bushes alongside the road, but we agreed that we would not hang around to find out what it came from.  On our way to and from the restaurant there were numerous Impala… well, at least there were numerous Impala eyes peering out of the darkness reflecting the light of our headlamps… that was pretty cool…. and eerie!  In the morning, once again we kind of took it slow.  We were both pretty engrossed in the books we were reading and usually spent at least and hour or so at some point during the morning and / or evening reading.  But eventually we got our butts in gear, showered (yes, warm showers yet again) and packed up for the ride back out to the road the way we came.  But first, another stop down to the lake for some breakfast.  On the way down this time there was a little wart hog laying in a puddle of thick chocolatey mud on the roadside.   I had expected to see a bunch of hippo’s in the water since that is one of the things this park is known for, but I only spied a couple swimming quite far off and only their heads peeking up from the water.  But that was really enough for now.  I did not want to meet them too close.  I did see an orangutan meandering through the field, and a few minutes later while I was snapping some pictures of these weaver birds near the back of the restaurant, I think I surprised that orangutan as it was sneaking toward the kitchen, perhaps to see what leftovers were there for the taking.  When it noticed me it turned and scooted away in a hurry… too fast for a photo op.

The ride out was much more relaxed… and hot!  It was about noon before we really got under way and although the sun was mostly hidden by a cloud cover, there were stretches of direct sunlight that were pretty oppressive.  David had taken his shirt off and although i was keeping an eye on him to be sure he wasn’t burning….  he burnt pretty good anyway.  About half way out of the park we decided to head off the main road along one of the paths that ran perpendicular to the road and off into the wild.  This is forbidden but the place is pretty desolate so there was not a big chance of being found out.  We walked our bikes in for about 15 minutes, then left them in a clearing and walked a bit further toward some zebra and water bucks we had seen.  There were monkeys at several locations but they were very bashful and ran away whenever we made any move in their direction.  We did see a meercat, we thought, but were unsure of this.

Back on the road with the day getting hotter i was beginning to fall behind.  I had given up on the bike sending me into spasms so I merely walked it up any hill with any significant slope.  This was actually a relief since my butt was oh so sore from the ride in the day before.  In the last couple of miles David decided to go on ahead and try to flag down a ride for the bikes back to Lukaya while we continued southwest to Kabale.    He had not had any luck by the time I got there, but a few minutes after I arrived at the road a pickup truck agreed to load us and the bikes into the open bed and bring us  to Mburarro, some 40 KM toward Kabale.  Along this road it began to rain and the driver stopped the truck to hand us a tarp to protect ourselves.   This was one of those moments when you know you are out of your natural element.  The condition of this tarp was such that, if I had it with me on a job back home, I would have rolled it up and thrown it into the dumpster.. and I would have been fairly skeeved  out by how filthy it was… but here I am tucked underneath it in the back of a pickup truck on an African highway in the pouring rain grateful for the protection it provided.  It was a riot to watch the faces of all the people we passed as they noticed two muzumgos riding by … it would have been much more common to see the muzungos in the cab…  not sure if we are just the elitist snobs that everyone thinks we are….  or if the Ugandan people are typically too gracious to allow us to be put out in such a manner.  I imagine we were the subject of many evening conversations at home or at the local watering holes.

Once in Mburarro the driver kindly led us to the car park where David found a bus that agreed to bring the bikes back to Lukaya and leave them with one of David’s friends there.   He then found a car to bring us most of the way to Kabale, and another car to bring us the rest of the way.  He brought us to a little backpackers hotel in town where two of David’s Peace Corp friends were waiting for us to have dinner with them…. which we did.  Jackie and Scott were very nice and it was interesting hearing their personal perspectives on the jobs they were doing and their eagerness to finish their projects and head back home.

We got a room at this hotel since the day was over and we had lost our last chance for a ferry to the island on Lake Benyonyi that we had hoped to reach that day.  But before we settled in poor David had a run in with the bus driver about the bikes.  It seemed he had passed Lukaya without droppping the bikes and on top of that he was being less than honest about exactly how far along the road he had gotten.  While he said he had just left Lukaya, it came out a minute later that he was an hour plus beyond it on the way to Kampala already.  ”Are you robbing me??   Are YOU robbing me?”  David was screaming  at this guy over the phone.  He had taken the bus number and the name of the driver and a Phone number or two… so he got on the phone with the peace corp security officer (who was a little busy with the riots going on that day in Kampala) and gave him the information to see what effect he might have.  He also talked with some people in Lukaya who had other contacts that might help track down the bus and ensure the return of the bikes.  By bedtime he just had to let it go and leave it to providence.

Well.. enough for now, I think.  next will be about our stay at Amagora on Lake Benyonyi…  an island paradise….

Peace

Jim

Africa Part 4

Once again, Saturday was a lazy morning, although perhaps we should have stepped it up just a bit…   but we didn’t.   I had been sleeping very well and getting up lazily around 8:30 or 9:00 and that felt fine… especially after the long trip and all the traveling we had been doing in Uganda.  Once up, both David and I took our time, read, nibbled on various breakfast items… I had the luxury of some real coffee that David had acquired somewhere along the road and I had a system of brewing and filtering that was just yummy….  something else I did not expect in Uganda.

Wilson had chosen his pee spot inside just where I stepped out of bed… so just about every morning I had that little surprise waiting for me.  But that was okay.   One thing I had learned in the few days I had been in Uganda… especially Lukaya, was that I had to dispense with my American beliefs about cleanliness and sanitation.  So a little dog pee on the bottom of my foot was just not anything to be concerned about.  David or I would clean it up and let Wilson out to terrorize the gardens and all the neighborhood visitors.  Few of the children or adults were comfortable with the puppy.  They just don’t have pets the way we do.

Wilson sure liked to bite with those sharp little baby teeth… but he was lovable and playful, and almost never whimpered or complained about anything.

So by and by David and I got cleaned up, collected the guitar, the poster and whatever else we needed for the festivities at the Center, stopped by to collect Gertrude and began the long walk up to the Orphanage.  I think I went there about 5 or 6 times during my entire stay, and I don’t think we went the same way, there or back, twice.  this trip seemed particularly long because of all we were carrying… guitar, Wilson….

When we arrived, there were speakers blasting some pretty busy music, and people talking on the microphone, testing, setting up tables and desks..  and just generally preparing.  Myang was the MC and he began by welcoming everyone and launching into the program for the afternoon in which they would thank me through prayer, speech, song, dance, more prayer, food, and then I, the “International Singer” would play some music for them all.   And then… to top it off, I would have a time to speak to them.  That was news to me!!   All i could do was chuckle at all this attention and honor they were pouring on me.  It was almost like they didn’t realize how many of all of you were involved in providing the gifts I brought, the money you all had donated along with the soccer balls, frisbees, etc etc….   So let me just take this moment to pass along the many profuse thanks that were bestowed on me this day – to all of you who gave so much of your time, energy, money, things and your own good will, so that I could make this trip and enjoy seeing those who would benefit from all we did together here in the US.  And let me add to that my appreciation for your selfless gifts and all the ways so many of you helped to get me on that plane and to that orphanage to share this time with David and his gang.

It was so much fun listening to the speeches, so laden with praise for the Paradis Family…  Tata Kimuli…  Timocracy  (This is an organization which gave a grant of $ 5000 US to the orphanage at the request of Adam and Christy.  This foundation was set up to honor the, all too short, life of Tim Orifice)   Once the speeches wound down then they got to some dancing.  Sister Hudaya had written some music and words of gratitude and choreographed a dance which the children did.

(I am sorry to tell you that all the pictures I had did not make it home with me.  They had been downloaded onto David’s computer so they are safe there, but something happened when we tried to load them onto a flash drive and they did not make it home with me.  He has sent me a few via email and I hope he will send more soon, but the internet is a pretty sketchy thing where he is.)

And now…. for the first time…..   Matoke!!!   It was neither bad nor good… It was pretty much the same deal as the Posho, except yellow instead of white and perhaps just a bit more moist.  Overall the meal was more than satisfying.  They serve huge portions.  The kids sometimes have small buckets, like what we might bring to the beach, and they are filled to the top with whatever is on the menu.   It’s just funny to see these little people pounding away at this pile of food… and actually finishing it!!  They ate easily twice what I ate… perhaps more.  The gourmet item on the menu this day was soda.  That was the real signal that this was a special occasion.

After dinner there was more dancing.  As the dance music started I asked Gertrude if she danced and she replied that she did, and that she would dance for me.  When she got up and started doing that beautiful African motion, she was immediately joined by Mama Alice and then by many, many others, me and David included.  After some time of this free form dancing and some silly games that involved eating doughnuts off a string, or filling bottles with water carried in the mouth from 20 yards away,  or racing while carrying eggs on a spoon in the mouth, it was then time for David and I to perform together.

We played Cat Stevens’ “Father to Son”… a resurrection of the time we played it together at Penny Lane Pub before he left the U.S. for Uganda.  We also played “Halleluiah”, by Leonard Cohen, “Joy Joy Joy” by Simon and Garfunkel, and I did “Here We Are” from my CD, “You are Here”    We had the kids all gathered around right at our feet and they were just tremendous.  They held the microphone for us and sang along when they could.  It was touching for me… and so much fun.  (I guess now I am an “international singer” : )  So good to be playing and singing with David again.

They did then ask me to give a little speech, which I did.  I simply said that there were many people back home who were involved in making these donations possible and I passed along the gratitude I was receiving to them all.  Short, sweet and to the point.  It was bing translated into Luganda as I spoke.  Quite a different experience for me.

The day wound down and soon enough David and I were ready to head home.  We were fortunate to be able to hitch a ride in the Institutes car so we did not have to carry everything so far.  I don’t remember doing much of anything for the rest of that evening.  I know there was some watching of TV… “The Office” but I think I begged out of that and went back to the room and read for a while before nodding off.

Sunday morning, Cochava made a mix of flour and baking soda… or whatever, and I turned it into a batch of crepes…  another unexpected culinary delight.  David, Alie and I had a lunch meal at a little restaurant in town… posha, rice, beans, meat….   and I tried to get on the internet to send a note back home… but that failed.

In the evening David, Gertrude and I set off in a new direction up the street and through a large field that was bathed in the background sound of what seemed like a Muslim worship service of some sort.  This open grassland served as a back way to the other side of town where his friend Anthony lived with his wife, Jean Francis, and their 5 children.  What a beautiful family.  The younger ones would come up and kneel in front of the adults to greet us.  They would grasp our two hands and give their greetings.  Jean Francis served us … what else?…   but it was all very good.  After the food was done and the kids were settled, then Jean Francis was able to join us.  Anthony had a guitar out and we were passing it around and singing various songs we knew.  Someone suggested folk songs and Anthony began to play and sing in his sweet high voice, an African folk song.  He lead, then Jean Francis began the answering portion, and as she did she began to be animated and started some african dancing.  Gertrude joined in with Anthony’s part and the three of them were deep into several songs with David and I just sitting with our mouths open at the wonderful unison and syncopated rhythms that they were moving through and repeating… one to the next….    calling… answering… and the subtle dance steps that seemed to rely as much on waiting to move as the movement itself…   Mesmorizing!

With that beautiful evening ending, we gathered Anthony’s bike (which we were borrowing for the trip David and I were to embark on on Monday morning)  and began the long trek back down the road and through the heart of Lukaya.  There is a theater in town that blasts music from outdoor speakers that can be heard from at least a mile away.  It made it seem like the whole of Lukaya was partying in the streets, but as we neared the source I saw that it was not so, simply a couple of speakers turned up really loud.  The town people were milling about just the same as they always seemed to.  When we returned to David’s home, I went inside and he walked Gertrude home.  Cochava was away down in Kabale this evening.  She had been asked by an acquaintance to visit a school he was involved with down there.  For this reason, David decided to take advantage of her empty bed and sleep in her apartment rather than sleep another night on his couch, since he had turned his bed over to me.   I am not sure if it was that I was alone in his apartment, or perhaps that I had caught up on my sleeping needs, but I had a fitful nights sleep.  Wilson did some whimpering a couple of times,  I thought I heard an animal in the apartment, other than Wilson, that is, which conjured up the image of rat!  There was also a mosquito buzzing me and I do not know if this was inside or outside the mosquito net.  As I wandered in and out of sleep and before it began to show any signs of morning, I heard what I thought were a series of gunshots in the distance.  I then heard the far off music of what I perceived to be a Muslim pre-dawn prayer time.  And closer to home there began to be the deep bellows of cattle on the road and the rush of a boda, or a car going by the apartment.  As the sun began to rise, I gave up on sleep and did some reading and set about making my coffee and grabbing whatever I could in the way of breakfast.   Soon enough Dave got up and we began our preparations for our next journey.

Our plan was to see Lake Mburo by bicycle, then on to Kabale and Lake Benyonyi, then perhaps a quick romp through Queen Elizabeth National Park to see if we could find an elephant or two…. but I’ll save all that for the next time…

Kale

Jim

Africa Part 3

“Kimuli!!”  ” Kimuli!!”  …..    The cries of Mazungo were replaced by the shouts of “Kimuli” by the children as we walked the last quarter mile to David’s home in Lukaya.  He is like a rock star, the pied piper, even a hint at the messiah.   More than once in my stay there I heard the comment that he looked like Jesus.

We had left Jinja in a taxi, front seat… the most dangerous…  and headed to Kampala.  This was not a bad ride as the roads in this region were not as bad as what I would later experience.  Once in Kampala we hit the pavement with all our bagage, each carrying a bag on our back and 1 or 2 bags of goodies for the kids.  Not the preferred way to move around in such a crowded city, especially in the marketplace.   But we simply skirted the market on the outside, to go in would have been far too difficult to maneuver.  David had his mind set on some vegetables and knew just what he wanted and where to find them.   In Kampala, he had some acquaintances and his bargaining skills were in full form.  He grabbed some bread as well as the vegetables and we headed toward the taxi park about a mile away.  On the way we walked past a display of sandals and I actually found a pair that fit.  David bargained them to 15,000 shillings, roughly $7.50 US, and away we went.  We boarded a taxi, far too early, since we sat in the taxi for an hour or so before they finally filled it up and we were able to get under way for the ride back to his home town, Lukaya.

Lucky us!!  About 20 or 30 KM of this road was under construction and since it had not rained at all in the 2 days I had been there, the dust was flying pretty good.  We got off the taxi finally in the late afternoon just up the street from his home.  We gathered our bags and  walked the last bit to his house.  This was an eye opener!!  The amount of trash simply lying in the road coupled with the ever present smell of burning trash brought my mind to my childhood days when I would drive with my Dad to the town dump.

This is not a photo I took, I found it on the internet.  (I found no photo credit to give)   But I believe it is from Lukaya and it certainly represents what I saw as I walked toward his home.

This is where the children came running, calling for Kimuli.  David is a pretty cool cucumber… he did not respond to them with too much enthusiasm.  I suppose that would be the result of just how much and how often they do call for him.  But he did smile and wave, and perhaps give greetings to a few.  Some adults also stopped him and I was introduced as Tata.  Once introduced, a long and repeated handshake with 2 or three different grasps accompanied the gracious and welcoming greeting.   “Welcome Tata!   Gebale!  How are you?  oli otya?   I am fine!  Gyendi!!  How are you finding Uganda?  Belungi!!   Kale, kale”   They are a most welcoming and warm people.  Their faces are beautiful and graced with the biggest smiles during this exchange.  I am sorry to say that I never really grasped the greeting, never really heard and understood even when they were using words I thought I knew… even when they were using english…  I tried very hard for the first several days… but I think my brain just shut down after that from pure overload and i just stuck with english most of the time.

Pretty much as soon as we got to David’s place we dropped our things and headed back out through the eucalyptus woods to pick up David’s new friend, Jackson II, as he was first to be known.

It took a couple days, but no one was comfortable with Jackson as a name and during  a conversation in the compound, we began talking about the TV show, Home Improvement, and the character that always had his mouth concealed from view… Wilson.  The suggestion was made that this was a good name for the dog, and it stuck.  Let’s hope Wilson has a longer life than his predesessor, Jackson.

Here is a shot of Dave in the Compound (the courtyard in the center of the building where he has an apartment) chasing Wilson out of the garden.

This courtyard is approximately 24′ square.  It has a dirt floor into which David, and some of his co-habitators, have planted a variety of vegetables and fruits.  I dare say this is one of the greener courtyards in Lukaya.  There are 8 apartments that open into this courtyard.  4 of them house volunteers that work at the orphanage with David, and 1 more houses the director, Aloy, his right hand man and brother (Ithink), Mayang, and another volunteer, Dora.  (I’m pretty sure all these spellings are incorrect…   sorry)  The door to the compound as well as the door to each apartment is a metal door with a hole cut out large enough to reach inside and latch / unlatch the bolt.  There is a circular trap door to then close the hole and this has a metal loop that matches a loop on the door into which a lock is inserted.  Seems like quite the process but I believe it derives from the days when it was common that you might be invaded by rebels.  I’m really not sure even these measures would have stopped anyone with a gun and a burning desire to get in, but at least you would know they were coming.  These doors sound exactly like the sounds made by dumpsters here in the US,  and that is quite a racket when you are lying in bed.

We returned with Wilson and by this time David’s neighbor and work mate, Cochava, had come home.  Between them, and Alie, they share each others apartments, chores, food…  it’s a pretty nifty co-op.  Dave has the only stove, a propane fired 2 burner cooktop.

Here is Cochava with Thalie Bungo, a neighborhood kid.  They are sitting on the concrete walk / stoop that encircles the compound.  you can see the green “dumster” doors behind them.   Thalie is a frequent visitor along with his sister Nakuya.  Nakuya had an injury to her finger that was infected and she came to David a couple times each day so he could clean it, apply neosporin ointment and bandaids.  She would loose her fingernail, but the infection was gone by the time I left.

As I met Cochava, there came a little face to the doorway.  Maria had come “spying” to see if Kimuli had come back with his Tata.  A few minutes later I recognized the beautiful face of Gertrude coming through the door.

Here is a shot of Gertrude (who apparently never looks into the camera)  and David with Nakuya between, sitting on the couch in David’s apartment that David made for himself.  (Nakuya is the subject of one of Adam’s photographs now on display at the Scranton library in Madison)

Gertrude had David and I over to her house for dinner that evening where I met Maria and Patience, her niece and nephew, and we were served popcorn with a fruit drink, then porridge, then sweet potatoes, irish potatoes and beans… maybe some posha as well.  After dinner, Gertrude presented a gift to me, a picture of Africans bearing gifts.  She wrote a very sweet note with it calling me “Dad” and welcoming me to her world.

It was clear that I was being honored… quite humbling actually.

Walking home in the pitch darkness I looked up at the blazing stars.  Quite a sight.  I have always wanted to look upon the night sky where no man made light pollution interfered with the view.   This was not quite it, but it was even better than anytime growing up at our little family cottage in Guilford CT.

Friday morning David and I took it really easy getting up (as we did every day save one).  I changed the strings on his guitar and we played some music and practiced some songs we would play together at the orphanage on Saturday.  We then wandered down to the office in town where I met Lydia and some others from the center.  They all knew I was coming and greeted me with great smiles and open arms.

We then got a free boda ride from one of David’s good friends up to the center where I met mama this and uncle that and sister so and so.   Oh there were so many and some I remember, some not so much.  I would butcher the names if I were to try to write them down.  It took one second to fall in love with Josephine

But i fell in love with many of the children.. and a few latched on to me and would not let go… Isaac stayed particularly close to me during that first visit.  We had lunch…  still no matoke…  and just wandered around for a couple hours meeting people, seeing the various buildings, the view of  Lake Victoria, the borken down car with Lukaya Polytechnical Institute painted on the side which I had seen in so many pictures.

We meandered our way back toward town stopping at every building connected to the center and a few others, saying hello and greeting / being greeted.  4 of the boys followed us until it was time for them to turn back toward the center and we went another way into town.

Friday evening, as David prepared some beans and chick peas that were intended to turn into dinner…  along came Cochava and Alie with a much better idea.  I was enlisted to peel the onions…   they are so little there I bet that between Cochava and I we peeled 30 or 40 for the dinner being prepared.  Such a meal was prepared…  there were flatbreads that simply by themselves I could not stop eating.  But there was a humice, veggies..   oh my I can’t remember what there was, but it was all so very yummy and I stuffed myself silly.  This dinner had turned into a birthday celebration for David and we were joined by Kristin, another Peace Corp volunteer.  They even brought out a cake with a candle.  It was a terrific night!

Cochava and Dave

Birthday Boy

Alie and Kristin

Saturday was the big day at the center with a huge party to celebrate… well…. me!   I couldn’t quite wrap my head around that, but….. well, I think I’ll save that for the next time.

Peace